Fate Zero: Avenger of Swords
by ForteOfTheBallad98
Summary: On his last breath, Shirou destroyed the Greater Grail, along with Angra Mainyu. He had been expecting to die quietly, not to somehow become employed by Alaya. Though he had been human, he was a Heroic Spirit, and as Avenger of the Fourth Holy Grail War, he would do his best to win, and save those people who had shaped him from his birth in fire. The Avenger would save them.
1. Prologue: Becoming a World's Sword

**Prologue: Becoming a World's Sword**

* * *

><p>He stood there, the boy known as Emiya Shirou. Steel erupted from the left side of his body, and his mind turning to steel. He didn't know his name, nor did he know of his own 'existence'. He did not notice the world, or anyone else. Every movement he made-he sounded liked rusted steel.<p>

Simply put, Emiya Shirou was merely a walking sword. Blades kept his flesh together, and it was because of his unwavering will that he could still move. Because of his desire, he had opened the seal on his left arm-_Archer's_-arm, and had become invaded by the Reality Marble, Unlimited Blade Works.

-A poisonous power. Since Servant flesh and Human flesh were not meant to be jointed, Shirou should have ceased to exist by now. He should have died. But he didn't. He couldn't. He still had to fulfill the promise he had made to a girl who's name he couldn't remember, a girl who he had forsaken everything for.

A girl, who reminded him of a cherry blossom. But since he was transforming into a living sword, he did not know the term. He merely _knew. _He had freed her from something-_Corruptiondestructiondeath-_, and he was going to finish that abomination that reminded him of a desolate night.

When he had 'become' Emiya Shirou.

"-"

Someone was talking to him, but he couldn't recognise them right now. His own eyes were fixed on a goal, that he would fulfill no matter what. Despite what anyone would tell him, he would continue on. He _would _save her, and the world from this _thing. _

"-Shirou."

A woman with long pale hair, and wearing curious attire stepped into his view. The 'remnant' of Shirou thought that she could be attractive, and that he trusted her somehow. He stopped his walk, and looked at her. She wanted to say something to him, so he decided to listen for a moment.

He remembered that she is dangerous, but she was not dangerous towards him, or the -_saveherprotecther-_ behind him. His muscles relaxed; he knew her, so there was no reason to try and kill her. He only had one last Projection that he could perform, one last effort to kill that -_deathcryingfirefireFIRE- _in front of him.

"Can you get them out of here?" He asked, his breathing laboured. But he asked this last favour of this dangerous woman, and he wanted her to accept.

"-Shirou. What about you?"

Her question throws him for a second, but he quickly reclaimed himself. He knew that he was dead on his feet anyway, and there was no point in trying to hide the fact. She knew of his limit, and had saw how the steel emerged from him. She knew he was going to die. But he didn't regret it.

"I'll go after I take care of this thing. It'll be quick, but every second counts for -_sisterdaggerAzothJewel-. _And -_blossomscherrylove-_ would be affected by the shadow if she stays here. Angra Mainyu might be persistent and make her his Master again. I can't let that happen."

He wouldn't. He cared too much about that plum-haired girl. He wouldn't let harm come to her, now or ever. If he did, he could never forgive himself. He _would not _be able to forgive himself.

"Understood. I'll carry them both out of her. I have recuperated enough for that." She replied, and Shirou could tell that she meant every word. There was no way he couldn't trust her.

"Please. Get out along with them. The cavern's collapsing. R-Ri-" His mind was already becoming steel, and it was frustrating. "Damn...! Your speed should be enough to avoid the rocks."

She looked at him with some emotion that Shirou couldn't remember the definition for or if he had felt it. Even though she was blindfolded, he could still see she was trying to say something. What it was, he couldn't remember, or didn't know.

"Alright." The woman finally replied to his statement, given that there had been a long moment of silence between them. "I'll carry them out of here, and then I'll come back for you."

That was an impossibility. He was going to die, if only to kill that corruption or shadow. His body was just too torn from the exhaustion and physical invasions that he had withstood because of his left arm.

"I'll get myself out of here. Don't worry about me." He tried to reassure her, but both of them knew that this would be the last time that they would speak to each other face to face. Even if he couldn't recognise the fact, he _knew. _

The woman picked up the two girls, and leapt out. He didn't try looking on their progress-his body was becoming swords, and his head was forced forward. So even if he had wanted to see if they were safe, he couldn't. His head and neck literally couldn't turn that way.

He was glad that they were gone. They wouldn't have to watch as his body eroded, and become a living sword. He didn't want his last memories being them recoiling in horror, nor did he want their last memories of him tainted like that. He wanted them to be secure, and safe.

He continued the walk, mindless to all but his objective. Once, the white-haired man who had 'gifted' him his own arm would have said the level of dedication was like when the Servant had been alive. He had pursued his ideals mindlessly, until he became consumed by it.

That was not him. Shirou Emiya was not like that. He couldn't be. He had forsaken that ideal to save the girl he loved, the one of cherry blossoms. That was part of the reason most of his Reality Marble was unaccessible to him. Archer's and his own inner worlds were too vastly different for him to use it.

He could call upon the 'knowledge' of the arm, but that was it. He was only proficient in Tracing and Projection, but it would be enough to finish this business. The business that had forged him in fire-

_I am the bone of my sword. _

_Steel is my body, and fire is my blood. _

The cavern was collapsing fast; but Shirou would still reach that tower in time. He would have enough time to destroy it, and then die knowing that he had saved the world, but more importantly, saved the woman that he had loved unconditionally. That was sweeter to him than Archer's former ideals.

However, there was one last obstacle. Shirou's eyes couldn't narrow, but he recalled this man. He was bathed in the crimson glow of the Greater Holy Grail, standing tall and firm despite the _wrongness _that Shirou could feel coming from him in waves.

"Kotomine...Kirei."

The man who had grafted Archer's arm to him, and had told him he could only Project or Trace three times before his body gave out. The man that was so similar to him, in more ways that one. Kirei embodied the former emptiness Shirou had possessed, but it was meaningless now. Shirou had purged himself of that emptiness, but Kirei still wallowed in it. After all, Shirou had found _her. _

_In my left hand I hold Hell's Wrath._

_In my right, Heaven's Joy._

"It seems we both managed to survive until this point, Emiya Shirou." The man's fake smile angered Shirou, who stayed still. "What are you doing now?"

He was curious, Shirou could tell. But Shirou was wondering why he was standing in front of that monstrosity. Why was he positioned as if to protect it? He didn't bother answering Kirei's question, only standing still, his mind full of swords.

"I am going to allow this curse to be born." Kirei stated, but Shirou was horrified, even though he was not surprised. His senses were dulled after all.

"You won't be able to control him if he comes into this world." Shirou argued, but Kirei seemed to consider the point before replying to Shirou's statement.

"Of course not. I do not have any means of stopping the birthing, but I have no intention to. I will bless anything that comes to life; anything that seeks differently I will eliminate."

Shirou 'remembered' being told this, but now that he could visualise the insanity of this man, he was not surprised. Kirei was insane and sick, but he had once been the same. Empty and searching for something that could fill him again.

"I will destroy it while you protect it...? I suppose I can see sense in that. But..." Shirou struggled forward, even as Kirei did the same. "We're going to die. I'm happy to die if it means killing that thing, but what about you?"

Shirou already knew the answer to that question, and Kirei did not disappoint.

"It is as you have said; I will be glad to die, so long as it is birthed. That is my purpose in life; to seek the misery of others and revel in it."

He needed time to Trace, but Kirei wouldn't allow it. He gathered prana, ready to attack once he was able. So he let Kirei continue on in his speech, while Shirou watched him.

"It is arrogant to assume it is evil before it is born. Is it not love to allow a life that yearns to be born into the world to do so?" Kirei asked, and Shirou felt anger. Anger at the fact that Kirei's logic fit so simply with his own.

But, there was a difference...

"Don't bullshit me. He's killed so many people already. I can't let him out into the world."

"Then let me ask you, Shirou." Kirei's smirk was absolute. "What is 'good' and 'evil'? Are you saying that murder is always an 'absolute evil'?"

The question gave Shirou pause. He couldn't answer such a question since the justice he had formerly followed was unknown to him the moment he chose Sakura over the rest of the world.

"You already told me...that there's no crime in the baby even if it is evil."

"Correct. Humans become 'good' or 'evil' through learning. Humans are superior to angels because they know of evil but are not evil themselves. Angels only know of good; humans have evil inside, but they can live as good, so they are superior to angels by that logic.

"But there is also at times goodwill shown by evil men. There are bad intentions shown on a whim by saints. The contradiction of humanity. But it is good and evil that make people human. Good exists with life and evil exists the same way. You cannot inquire about the crime of one who has not yet been born. There is no existence that is born as evil, that is unwanted by everyone. It has no reason to be punished until it is born."

He continued in his speech, and every time he finished a sentence Shirou felt a resonance between them. This cemented the fact that he hated Kirei because he was so similar to himself, the way he had been and part of how he was now. But...there was something he said just then...

"You used Sakura because of that reason?" Shirou became angry at how this bastard had manipulated the girl he loved, and fire coursed through his veins.

_To protect her, I have created countless swords._

_Even if it means I cease to live, my blades will protect her forever more._

"Of course. To the end of Angra Mainyu's birth, I have killed many people. That is why I cannot hold back now. This is my way of life, Shirou Emiya. I live to answer the question 'is a human born evil?'. My actions have proven that is correct. Now, I will complete my purpose, even if I die."

They stared at each other, both dead men walking. Kirei's heart had been destroyed by Sakura's own, corrupt powers. He would not last more than a few more minutes. Shirou was becoming a sword inside-out, and he wouldn't survive past exterminating Angra Mainyu.

Shirou came to the judgement. If Kirei is indeed the same as him, then the priest will not back down, no matter what. If they are the same, they share the same stubborn nature, and Kirei was protecting his desire to the end. Like Shirou. But still...

"I understand your existence now, Kirei." Shirou's declaration surprised the priest. "From what you've told me...you yourself find joy in suffering, in evil. That is why you want him born, right? As you said, sometimes goodwill is shown by evil men."

Kirei smirked, having seen that Shirou was correct. "It is as you say. And I envy the normal people who are not so twisted as myself. Yes, my purpose since my birth has been the incarnation of the only evil greater than myself. Neither of us have much more time. So let us dispense with words, and begin our final duel."

Shirou stood tall now, and his left arm clenched into a fist despite the pain being felt, of the sword-bones being forced to break inside his body, causing even more harm than before.

_Even though I have felt great pain to create my weapons,_

_I do not regret it. I do not regret the path I have chosen._

It was going to be a brawl; not a spectacular feat like when he had killed Berserker, but simply two similarities beating each other until one of them fell. Uncivilized, other magus' would not condone this duel, simply because it was not elaborate.

Perhaps it was fitting then, that the two of them were not normal magus.

"Let's finish this...Kirei! Right here and now!" Shirou yelled, and dashed forward.

Kirei's own smirk didn't vanish as he himself leapt forward as well, his own fist clenched and ready to pummel Shirou into dust. Ready to eliminate the threat to the definition of his own distorted existence.

* * *

><p>Several minutes later, the remnant of Shirou Emiya looked down on the dead body of Kotomine Kirei. The priest who had been his greatest opponent in his life.<p>

The man's heart had finally caught up with him; he had become half-dead some time before Shirou had when he had unsealed Archer's arm to kill the blackened and corrupt Berserker. He had given him some last words, before dying with a smile on his face.

"_You are the last Master. Go to the Holy Grail, and fulfill your wish."_

In the end, there had been respect between the two enemies who had hated each other because of how similar they had been. One final respect, for the two men who understood each other more than strangers understood _them. _

Only other distortions could understand distortions, right?

Shirou's eyes were rusting away, so that was the last thing he 'saw' before his mind became mostly steel. But he refused to give up the memory of that girl he had loved with all of his heart. He was going to save her from this abomination, even if he was going to die in the process.

The last Projection he will ever perform.

Shirou held out his left arm, feeling the corrupting energy of Archer's arm fuel his Magic Circuits. Normally, this would be a desperation move, one that would kill him. But that didn't matter; Shirou was already dead on his feet. There was no way he wouldn't die. That was how this would work.

"Trace...on...!"

He would use the strongest Noble Phantasm he knew and had 'recorded' in his Reality Marble to finish this. The last relic he had of his partner, who had died and had been corrupted by this thing. It was his own last salute to her. To that woman whose name he couldn't remember clearly.

_That is the definition of my existence. _

_Throughout my life, my true purpose has always been..._

The golden sword appeared in his hand, and with practiced motions he held it in his right hand as well. With both hands, the true power of Excalibur would be able to be used. He wasn't sure of the power Excalibur could generate, the limit, but this would be enough. It would be enough to destroy this corruption of the world.

Wordlessly, he held up the sword above his head. Golden mana began to gather around the blade, and in a moment a great golden blade of mana had imposed itself over the blade of Excalibur.

_Unlimited Blade Works..._

"Ex...calibur..."

Without a trumpet of good will as was customary back in Arturia's time, the golden blade slashed down, and an enormous blast of holy light enveloped the Greater Grail. In a cry of sheer pain, Angra Mainyu was killed, and the Holy Grail was no more.

Even as Excalibur dissolved from his hands, Shirou fell forward, and the cavern now began to collapse in earnest. The last thing he saw in his static vision was a purple haired girl, who smiled kindly at him.

_Sa...kura..._

His world went white, and he knew nothing more.

* * *

><p>Alaya frowned.<p>

It was not common for the personification of mankind's unconscious desire for survival to frown. It mostly just _existed, _watching as its Counter Guardians dispensed the justice that they had sworn to uphold when they had made their contracts with it, and not that bore Gaia.

Alaya was looking down on Earth, at the scene before it. A boy who had swords growing out of him defeated that stain that had been a result of the corruption of the Holy Grail. It had watched as he had used that golden sword to destroy the Grail, and had died as a result.

Of course, Alaya had been watching before. It had been curious about this particular universe in the collection; it differed from others as that boy had cast aside his initial ideals, unlike that angsty Counter Guardian that had quickly become its favourite to use against the enemies that opposed mankind's survival.

It had watched as the boy cut down that black Berserker and finished off Saber or Arturia, the greatest trophy Gaia had held against it. It gave Alaya something of a euphoric rush that its rival and sometimes-friend had lost its centerpiece. After all, they had been feuding since their inception, wouldn't it be natural to take pleasure in other's discomfort.

Still...that boy interested Alaya. He was unlike the other Counter Guardian. Perhaps it would be worth it to extend a contract to the boy, and see if he would become a Counter Guardian like his alternate self.

But at the same time, it would have to be very careful about approaching the boy. Simply shipping him off to any world-threatening cataclysm would eventually cause the same hurt and broken EMIYA to emerge in this boy. There couldn't be a duplicate Counter Guardian; even Alaya was aware of that.

It mulled a possible resolution in its 'head'. It could send this boy off on much more 'focused' events; ones that would threaten the lives of those he had chosen over the world full of strangers. Yes, perhaps that would work. He had shown that he would protect those he knew and held close over sacrificing his happiness and their own for the sake of a few billion people.

If this worked, the boy wouldn't fall into the same trap that Kiritsugu and EMIYA had.

Alaya's mind made up, it 'opened' a route for the soul of the boy to follow, from that cavern to here. Even as the boy's soul materialized in the place Alaya called 'Geass', it already began to shape its form according to the memories of the boy.

This was going to be very fun.

* * *

><p>When Shirou opened his eyes, he didn't expect an amber sky.<p>

For a moment, he was paralyzed. The last strike he had dealt in defiance to Angra Mainyu had taken a great toll on his body, and he was sure he had died. But right now, he was also confused as hell.

Mainly because his left side wasn't full of blades.

Yes, that was what Shirou focused on as he sat up on the grassy field, and looked at his left arm. There were no blades protruding from it, nor from his left side. Even his clothes had been replaced with something he was sure was a jab at Archer.

He was wearing a dark red jacket, and black pants with red lines going down them. On his feet were dark, steel tipped boots that reminded him of Archer's own, and a black shirt underneath the jacket. Reaching around the back of his jacket, he felt a hood, and was puzzled.

"Where am I?" Shirou asked the world, and he flexed his muscles as he stood up.

It was a polite question given that he shouldn't be alive right now; he should be dead. Even with his advanced healing capabilities, he should have died from the sheer pain and _wrongness _of his injuries. It was strange, and it was really making Shirou's head hurt.

Then, Shirou saw, the hill. It was really quite beautiful, with dark grass and a slope that was even, giving the hill he stood on some significance. The sky was golden, as he had saw previously, the sun glowing in the light of the ending day, lazily setting itself to sleep.

"Congratulations Shirou Emiya," He heard a voice call out that was familiar to him. "Not many deserve an audience with me. You should count yourself lucky."

He whipped around, and came face to face with Saber.

At first, Shirou was shocked beyond everything. But in a moment, he saw that this _wasn't _Saber, his former Servant. The entity was a few centimeters taller, and wore red instead of blue. Even then, her attire was more military and Roman from what he recognised. Also, there was her...generous...bust to consider.

Shirou blushed at her beauty, and the entity giggled. "Well, that's the first time I've made a visitor blush so much."

The entity looked itself over, and raised an eyebrow. "I was sure that this was Arturia, but it seems I made a mistake. Oh well, nothing to cry over. I rather like this form."

"Uh..." Shirou tried to gather his thoughts, before asking the entity the questions on his tongue. "Sorry, but who are you?"

"Hmm?" The entity blinked, before coming to a realisation. "Oh, my apologies. I forgot that I haven't introduced myself. Very well. I am what some may call 'survival' and I am what some would call 'life'. But you may call me 'Alaya'."

Alaya...the name seemed familiar to Shirou, before he felt pain lance through his left arm and he clutched his head as electricity flowed through his brain.

_A battle-torn field..._

_A girl with white hair and red eyes..._

_A promise, an oath.._

_A hand..._

_A smile, and accepting the outstretched hand..._

_Counter Force..._

Suddenly, the information gathered from Archer's memories was complete, and Shirou looked at the entity in wonder and fear. "Alaya. The Counter Force."

The entity that had taken Archer, an idealistic and naïve person, and broken him so thoroughly that he became obssessed with ending his own existence. Even if it meant killing his past self. Though, given how Archer had given him his left arm, Shirou thought that that ambition had died.

"What do you want with me?"

It was a direct question, given that Shirou was through with trying to understand the machinations he had been put through courtesy of Kirei and Zouken. The manipulations he had faced, and the vague words of those damnable men...

He was finished with that.

"Put it simply, Shirou Emiya." Alaya said with a smile on that face that resembled Saber. "I wish to firstly congratulate you on becoming a Hero. And secondly...I have a request to make of you."

Shirou blinked; a Hero? That was what he was now? Did that mean he was a Heroic Spirit then? Possible, but slightly unlikely. Even though he had forsaken his past ideals, the idea of having become a True Hero gave Shirou pause. He frowned. There was something about a request too...

"What request?" Shirou was confused, but alarmed.

Given that Alaya had made a contract with Archer to save as many people as possible, it stood to reason that it would make the same deal with him. But he had his fingers crossed for the contrary.

Alaya smiled. "Oh, don't worry Mister Emiya. I have uses for you yes, similar to Counter Guardian EMIYA. But you have earned...a special privilege."

Shirou's eyes narrowed, the blueprints for Kanshou and Bakuya already loaded into his mind. He'd be damned if he became a Counter Guardian, even...huh? What had it said?

"A special...privilege?" Shirou asked, the blueprints still loaded in his mind. "What do you mean?"

Alaya smiled again. "Exactly what I mean Shirou Emiya. A special privilege because of how you have saved the world from this disaster."

At Shirou's confusion, Alaya continued. "You are aware of the untold destruction that would have ripped apart the Earth, right? Angra Mainyu and by extension the Grail was simply too corrupt to exist anymore. I _had _enlisted EMIYA, but when he died I paid attention to you. With that special arm of yours."

Shirou looked at his left arm, and to his amazement it fitted him better than it had before. It was still tan, but the way it had invaded his body was gone. The Circuits and power inside this arm linked seamlessly with the Magic Circuits already present in his body. There was a sense of _acceptance _coming from the arm, rather than _rejection. _

"Because Angra Mainyu was already manifesting, and the Greater Grail was nearing completion," Alaya continued. "You have been granted permission to be a Heroic Spirit. As you know, Heroic Spirits are defined by their accomplishments, and by saving the world you've done what some haven't."

That made sense to Shirou; after all, from his memories Archer had destroyed the Grail in his youth, though it hadn't been close to manifesting itself like in Shirou's world. The fact he eliminated a great evil that the public would never hear about meant that Archer's legend would never have been so well-known, and thus a weaker Heroic Spirit.

However, he had become a Counter Guardian in the course of trying to become a Hero, and thus any chance he had at becoming a True Heroic Spirit was lost to the contract with Alaya. But still, that did not answer any questions he had for the entity that was talking to him.

"What do you want from me? To be a Counter Guardian?" Shirou asked, getting angry now. There was no way that he would accept the deal with the devil, so to speak. "I'm not like Archer; I'm not so obsessed with my ideal of saving people that I'm gonna be your dog."

For a moment, Alaya looked surprised, and Shirou began to think that he had gone too far in his defiance of it. But then Alaya threw back her head and laughed loudly. She disappeared from view, but Shirou turned around, and was face to face with Rin.

He knew that this was Alaya, simply because she was doing something _wrong. _The impersonation of Rin was masterful but it was the little things that gave it away. The smile, and the fondness in her eyes didn't match with the Rin he was familiar with.

"Oh, I don't plan for you to be a Counter Guardian, at least a full-time one." Alaya replied. "What I meant was that you will become a Heroic Spirit, and at the same time be a...part-time Counter Guardian."

"Part time?" Shirou asked, very confused with the whole thing so far. "What do you mean?"

Alaya smiled, and before Shirou knew it she was beside him. He resisted the urge to sigh; he was getting very irritated by the entity's playfulness. This was a serious matter after all.

"Well, I can give you a sort of 'executive pass' to the Throne proper," Alaya explained, that fox like grin still on her face. "But in return, you'd have to perform some Counter Guardian duties for me."

Shirou had to admit he was shocked. Why was Alaya giving him these privileges? He thought that Heroic Spirits were chosen because of their brave deeds or outstanding feats. Then again, he reasoned, he had slain Angra Mainyu, so didn't it make sense he'd be chosen as a Heroic Spirit?

But also...

"What are those duties?" Shirou asked, keeping an eye on the entity as it walked in a circle around him. "I don't plan on selling my soul to become a Heroic Spirit."

Alaya laughed again, the fake-laugh of Rin making Shirou slightly off edge. "Oh Shirou, you'd benefit from these duties as well. Yes, I'd call you in for a few massacres every now and then, but they'd be to the benefit of those you're so protective of."

Shirou was interested now; what did that being mean by that last comment?

Alaya continued, unaware of Shirou's curiosity. "I can see the confusion in your eyes. What I mean is that I'd call you in, but to protect those you call family."

For a moment, Shirou found himself remembering all of them; Issei, Ayako, Rin, Taiga, Illya, Sakura...All of them. His suspicion grew; what did the eternal consciousness mean by that last comment?

It seemed to read Shirou's mind, as it shifted form to Kirei, which made Shirou tense up. "I mean what I said; I'd call you in to protect those you love from harm. That protection extends to their children, their grandchildren, their descendants. You will be killing anything that harms those precious people of yours."

With a sly grin that perfectly suited that particular face, Alaya asked Shirou a simple question. "Well, Hero of Swords? What is your answer? Will you accept this most gracious offer? To protect your loved ones from any undue harm for eternity?"

Shirou was quiet for a moment, as he thought it over. His eyes were downcast the more he thought of it; he'd be killing people, perhaps more than Archer ever had in his loathsome existence as a Counter Guardian. While he'd get reprieves occassionally, Shirou would have to keep killing killing killing, all for...

His heart stopped as he remembered Sakura. He recalled that she would be threatened because of the Holy Grail War; even if no-one else but those involved in the War knew of her association with it, word could get out. That would mean a life time of experimentation. He had true faith in Rider's abilities, but still...

_Protect her..._

That had been the promise Shirou had made to himself that day. He chose to protect Sakura and become selfish, keeping her and his other loved ones from harm. He wouldn't follow Archer's path; he couldn't forsake them for the flawed ideal he had once clinged to. He just couldn't.

So, with his head held high, Shirou gave his answer.

"I accept."

The world around the two beings began to crack, and white began to fill his vision. As Shirou felt the sensation of falling from a height, for a moment he thought he saw Sakura smiling at him again. He smiled back; even if it was Alaya playing him, Shirou had cherished that smile, and would continue to do so.

And so ends the life of Shirou Emiya, and the birth of the Heroic Spirit and Counter Guardian known as SHIROU.

What Shirou didn't know, however, was what would occur to him later down the road. He would be summoned for a Grail War, but not the one he was familiar with. No, he'd be summoned for the Grail War that had shaped him and forged him in fire. Though he didn't know it, he would participate in the Fourth Grail War.

He was unaware of the massive changes he himself would make.

* * *

><p><strong>So, here is a Fatestay night story that I haven't been able to get out of my head; one where HF!Shirou from the Normal End becomes a Heroic Spirit and Counter Guardian. I admit, I might have screwed the rules a little on this, but it was a perfect opportunity for me. Next chapter, Shirou gets summoned by an unexpected person. Stay tuned!**

**To explain some aspects, Shirou and by extension Archer, gained 'permission' to become Heroic Spirits as they had slain the Holy Grail, and with it Angra Mainyu. However, this would not have happened as greatly with UBW!Shirou, simply because it wasn't him who destroyed the Grail though he does get a sort of 'pass' since Gilgamesh was, y'know, threatening the world. **

**However, the Shirou that became Archer was never aware of this and neither was any other Shirou until this one, and by forging a contract with Alaya became a Counter Guardian, whereas he could have become a True Heroic Spirit after a long period of time. **

**Now, this Shirou was able to become a Heroic Spirit by slaying the SOURCE of the Holy Grail; the Greater Grail and the true Angra Mainyu with it. This gave him good 'permission' to become a Heroic Spirit as Angra Mainyu threatened the world much more than any other previous threat. **

**I hope this is a good explanation, but I also have a few ideas to bounce around.**

**What would you guys think of a Fate/stay night/Campione crosssover? This would be different from God Slaying Blade Works in that Proto-Saber would be the Heretic God Arthur from the latter series, and be incarnated when Alex attempts to kill Guinevere. **

**Would that idea also interest you guys? If so, please review and I hope you like this story. I will try to update my other ones, but I'm knee deep in revision as it is, so some may go on haitus for a month or two more. **

**See you!**


	2. Chapter 1: Summoning

**Chapter 1: Summoning**

* * *

><p>Shirou lost count of how much time had passed since that fateful encounter with Alaya, and made his contract. To him, it could have been minutes, weeks, days months or years. Possibly even centuries. He didn't care much though. He was fulfilling his side of their contract, which included putting down those who would threaten the families of his loved ones.<p>

In the time since his contract, Shirou had not physically aged, but because of his frequent use of Tracing and Projection, there were large patches of white amongst his still-dominant red hair, and haphazard patches of brown adorned his face like a bad tan. For some reason, Alaya had looked at Shirou and recalled a certain someone from a different timeline that he resembled. It had assured him it wasn't Archer, but the person had bore black tatoos.

He hadn't seen fit to ask about that person, or whoever he had been. Even so, despite his aesthetic changes, his clothes were still in remarkable shape considering how many he had had to kill over the time. There were stab marks going through his jacket, and slashes as well. He even had something of a pattern of three scars adorning his right side. That had been his first major wound since becoming a Counter Guardian, but he had tightened up after that.

He could now understand the particular cynicism Archer had faced when completing his duties as a Counter Guardian, the overwhelming sense that he was not honouring his ideals. That he was becoming more and more of a knight templar of sorts; kill one to save ten, and dozens to save hundreds. Archer had broken when he had learned of this one true fact, but there was one crucial difference.

Shirou was not Archer. He was no longer bound by the need to save every person. He would protect his friends and family, and damn strangers if it meant protecting them. That wasn't to say he wasn't still kind; he retained that. If he was alive, he would have helped those that truly needed help, like children. His heart still sunk when he recalled Illya.

He had left her alone, and he hoped she at least, had survived. If she hadn't, Shirou knew he might have broken just from losing his little sister. But he didn't try thinking about that; if he did, he would falter. And if he faltered, he would become Archer. He would become that which Shirou hated.

He couldn't do that. He _wouldn't _do that. So he soldiered on, despite his slight misgivings. Fighting, fighting, fighting, never giving himself a moment to think during the massacres he had participated in. When he was done, then he would mourn those he had to kill, for it was only because of circumstances that they had become his enemies.

However, the time for thought had passed. Shirou was now standing in front of a crowd of men. At least fifty by his own count. Thanks to constantly fighting, he had gained Archer's own Eye of the Mind, the True variant. It was still inferior to Archer's, but it was good enough that he could rely on it and his own instincts to aid him.

They wore expensive clothing, clearly having come from rich families and born to privilege. Howeve, that would work in Shirou's favour; they would underestimate someone as young-looking as him, going from what he knew of nobles from Archer's memories. They wore brown, but many of them bore magical items clearly intended to be used as weapons. There were some staves, but also spears and hammers.

Shirou knew not to underestimate them, despite being a Counter Guardian and Heroic Spirit. Despite him exceeding them in power, some had come very nearly to killing him. It had been such an out-of-character action of him having arrogance that allowed the three scars to be planted on his face.

He would not let that same mistake happen again.

Also, from what information was given to him on his arrival here, this was in a future where magus' were gradually losing to the old fashioned methods of not using technology. Indeed, some magi preferred to use technology to communicate rather than more expensive means of communications as during the times of Rin's father.

Magecraft wouldn't be completely exterminated, no; it would still be practiced and taught, but some purists were getting very angry at this. Particularly this bunch. Unlike most of the magus community who had discarded the Heaven's Feel upon realizing that it was corrupt, this group sought to take retribution upon those they thought responsible.

Namely, Rin's descendant.

Shirou had learned that Rin had been brought to trial for the abandonment of the Heaven's Feel as well as the one way to reach Akasha, but he had been thankful that Zelretch, one of the Dead Apostle Ancestors had saved her. He narrowed his eyes at the crowd; they were monsters to him.

Seeking for an old, corrupt way of reaching their old goals, they had become the worst kind of human beings; how could they persecute a child for something that had been a true act of good? Shirou bit his lip, but stood strong. He didn't care right now; he stood between them and the rebuilt Fuyuki City.

Between them and Rin's descendant, Hana.

He would protect her, with everything he had.

The crowd stopped, and gazed upon him. He could tell they were spooked; their feet shuffled far too much, and their eyes were wide with surprise. He could even see some of them sweating. Hopefully, Shirou thought, some would run away so that he wouldn't have to kill them.

None did so.

The crowd parted, and through the column passed a man. He was wearing elaborate clothing, with ruffled cuffs, as well as a cape as red as blood. His hair was wild, and so was his beard. It reminded Shirou of a card-carrying villain with a beard, but he felt nothing but disgust.

This man would have crucified a child simply because of his selfish desire for Akasha. Granted, Shirou couldn't complain about selfishness, but there were lines that he wouldn't cross. The thought of crossing those lines had never even entered Shirou's deepest and darkest thoughts.

But to this man, there were no lines he wouldn't cross for revenge.

"Well, what do we have here?" The man's silky voice cut through the tension, as the sun faded ever so slowly in the horizon. "Who are you, stranger? Why do you stand in our way?"

"I thought that would be obvious, Jonathan Templar." That was the name of the man who would kill Rin's entire surviving family. Shirou would _not _let that happen. "There's only one reason a force of this size would approach Fuyuki, isn't there?"

Shirou himself couldn't say it; if he did, he would betray Alaya's rule that where he got his information would be ambiguous. The entity was frustrating, but Shirou understood the rules that it enforced on occasion. But beyond all that, deep down, he wanted Jonathan to confirm it.

He wanted Jonathan to admit his guilt, and thus Shirou could continue on his path of protecting Hana. If he had been aware of this desire, the desire to utterly torture Jonathan to death for trying to kill the only remnants of Rin and Sakura's family, he would have faltered.

But he didn't. Instead, he waited. He knew it would be pointless, but he wanted to hear Jonathan's reasoning from his own lips. Once that was done, then there was no way Shirou could hold back. There would be no mercy, no light-heartedness. Only cold, hard pragmatism and quiet rage.

"Ah, but you are right, magus." Jonathan said in a tone that reminded Shirou of Kirei, more than a little. It was _irritating._ "We are here to exact our glorious vengeance upon those dogs that destroyed our chance of gaining entry to Akasha."

Shirou's hand twitched, before he controlled it. It wouldn't do to lose his temper; he had worked to control his former hot-bloodedness over the eternity he had been doing this, and he wasn't going to stop now. However, that was being sorely tested now. He was _very _close to violating that barrier.

"That's the reason we are marching on this backwater place." Jonathan eyed the far-off Fuyuki with disdain. "I suspect that you killed a large number of our men because of our goal. How very stupid of you, unknown magus."

That was true. Behind Shirou lay about fifteen dead members of this deranged cult. He had cut them down with Kanshou and Bakuya, never unveiling the true extent of his Tracing; he would be giving away his greatest advantage. But he would have to Trace a mid-level Noble Phantasm in order to kill all of these cultists if he wanted to stop any getting away.

It was sorrowful, and slightly sad that Shirou was now beginning to think of his enemies as mere obstacles, that he was subconsciously thinking of them as cattle sent to slaughter. He was always trying to reign in that cynicism, but sometimes it just didn't work. He couldn't worry about that now; he had to fight.

"I suppose that's why the Tohsakas have to die according to you," Shirou replied, keeping his tone even. "They betrayed the single goal every 'good' magus holds fast to? Reaching Akasha; by doing that, by destroying the one chance at reaching Akasha, they forfeited their lives?"

Jonathan laughed, and Shirou was reminded once more of Kirei and his insanity regarding Angra Mainyu. It seemed that monsters were always been born and created every day. But then again, hadn't Kirei told him something to that effect once? It had been so long that Shirou wasn't sure.

"Yes, yes yes yes! You have learned of our righteous anger, and our desire for vengeance!" Jonathan laughed, mad as Berserker. "We will kill _all of them! _Their heads will be mounted on pikes, their bodies fed to familiars! The Tohsakas will die! _ALL OF THEM!" _

That had been the last and worst thing for Jonathan to say; Shirou's mind became steel, and Kanshou and Bakuya were loaded, and then Traced into his hands.

"You know, you're the worst kind of human being." Shirou told the psychotic magus. "You're such a fundamentalist, in trying to get to Akasha. Haven't you realized that the Grail was corrupted?! Haven't you realized it never would have worked the way it was supposed to, since the Third Holy Grail War?!"

Jonathan in retaliation gained an ugly look on his face and spread out his arms like an insane man. "That is a lie! It is obvious that the Tohsakas would want to selfishly keep the secrets to themselves, that family of liars and whores! We will take their knowledge, we will raze them to the ground, and we will reach Akasha! We are right and absolute, and anyone who opposes us must be cleansed in the heavenly fire!"

Something inside Shirou's mind broke at the insane man's ramblings. He began to step forward, and he could see Jonathan's minions readying themselves for his coming assault.

"You know, I met a man just like you once." Shirou said with contempt. "He would condemn the whole world to die, simply because he fancied the destruction that would ensue. You would kill a girl and her family simply because of actions that benefited the greater good? You sicken me."

Shirou came to a stop, and raised Kanshou and Bakuya in the stance he had honed over the years. It was incredibly similar to Archer's own, but with a few differences given that they were of different heights and other such physical factors. Especially considering his left arm.

_-BEGIN F/SN SOUNDTRACK: EMIYA KENJI KAWAI VER 2-_

"Then, as the protector of the Tohsaka family, I will eliminate you all here!" Shirou shouted, getting ready. "Any who don't want to die, leave now! If you don't, I will have to kill all of you here!"

None moved. None even blinked as Shirou's eyes flitted to each set of insane eyes. Perhaps they were doubting him, and perhaps they were too insane from their own fundamentalism. But that didn't matter right now; Shirou had made a promise, and he was going to protect Hana and her family.

He leapt forward at an inhuman speed; part of his own Reinforcement magecraft that had been enhanced by his new body. Jonathan's eyes widened as the gap between his own forces and Shirou's closed quickly.

"Quick! Fire magecraft users, target that heretic!" Jonathan commanded, and magi immediately responded to his commands, forming up in a single line in front of the rest of the magi. "Burn him to ashes!"

As one, they began to chant in Latin, and Shirou could feel mana flow into their staves. He could feel the immense power beginning to be born inside of them. The magnitude of that blast of fire that they were casting would be able to instantly incinerate any single magus, even one as talented as Rin.

But then again, Shirou reasoned, he wasn't a normal magus. He was a Heroic Spirit and a Counter Guardian. And he could defeat this impressive spell simply by using his one true talent. Projection, and Tracing. He closed his eyes briefly, searching inside Archer's knowledge for the weapon he would need.

It had to be powerful enough to not only distort those flames that would be coming at him in a few seconds, but also damage that line of casters long enough that he could get inside their formations and begin systematically eliminating them one by one. Thus, it had to be at least B-Rank in power; a Noble Phantasm capable of manipulating flames.

Ah, Shirou thought with satisfaction, there it was. He dug his feet into the ground as he discarded Kanshou and Bakuya, then held his hands out, ready to grasp the hilt of the sword that was not yet incarnated into this world. The Noble Phantasm he was Tracing was originally a B+ Noble Phantasm, and thus became a mere B Rank in his hands, but it was enough.

He let the information surge through him as he felt the heat of the sword beginning to pulse around his hands as he began to grasp it. It was a Flaming Sword; not one like any other Noble Phantasm as it had different principles compared to some, and originated from Norse mythology; it had also been wielded once by the fire giant Surtr.

This sword had been created by Surtr in anticipation of Ragnarok, and thus bore a great deal of the same destructive power, derived from the flames of Surtr's own immense power. It was foretold to bathe the world in a fire greater than any other when he concluded his fight with the god Freyr.

Yes, this Noble Phantasm would be the one to use. Shirou opened his eyes, and saw the flames begin to come forth from his enemies. Similarly, his hands now grasped the fiery handle of Surtr's sword; it was large enough that it was a zweihander in Shirou's possession.

"Trace..." He began, feeling the power begin to be knitted together, following the seven steps he needed to follow to Trace properly. His blood was on fire now.

"Now, minions! Burn this heretic to the ground!" Jonathan cried out, even as his casters finished incantations. "Unleash Hades!"

With a wordless shout, a great blast of fire shot at Shirou from the multitude of magi in front of him. He wasn't bothered though, as he was finishing his own incantation.

"On."

In a great burst of fire, the sword of Surtr came into existence in his hands. It was large, as he thought it would be. It wasn't made of metal; instead, it was just fire shaped into the mold of a sword. But it was powerful, and Shirou would use its powers of fire generation and manipulation against his enemies.

How poetic.

He gave a yell as he swung the sword down over his right shoulder. Now that he had Surtr's knowledge, he knew how to use the sword best. As he brought the sword down, a blast of flame equal in size to the opposing one shot from the flaming sword. These flames, however, were dark red, and had 'cracks' of yellow in a pattern of them, reminding Shirou of lava.

In a tension-filled moment, the force of Surtr's sword completely overwhelmed the flames that Jonathan's side had cast. In a moment, the opposing flame was _absorbed _into the blast of fire Shirou had created, making it stronger. One of the special abilities of Surtr's sword was that as a construct of fire, it could absorb other fire to make any blast like this one grow in power.

There were great screams of agony and pain as the blast swept over the magi. The casters had been unable to create an effective shield in time, mainly due to their own overconfidence regarding Shirou's abilities. They screamed in pain as their skin was boiled off, blood was evaporated and they slowly and painfully turned into ashes and dust.

The other lines of magi had fared far better, but that wasn't saying much. They managed to get rudimentary shields made of jewelcraft up in time, but those defences were overwhelmed in a moment, but letting them die slowly though some of them would live with severe burns for the rest of their lives.

"What...WHAT!" Jonathan cried out, as he saw the untold destruction of at least half of his force. "How is this power possible?! No ordinary magus should be capable of this! What...what are you?!"

The shriek was directed at Shirou, who let Surtr's fiersome blade fade into motes of prana, and Traced Kanshou and Bakuya back into his hands once more. He gave a resigned smile at Jonathan, who was clearly getting a good impression of the level of destruction Shirou was truly capable of.

"I guess I'm just a magus without pride." Shirou said softly, though it carried to his opponents. This was true; Shirou wasn't proud of his abilities to Trace; he used them because they suited him and his fighting style, and he wasn't a collosal asshat of a magus, believing himself above any other.

No mortal should have what he had, Shirou had decided this long ago.

But it didn't matter right now. All that mattered was eliminating these enemies and fundamentalists that would threaten Rin's family, and by extension Sakura's. He doubted that if left alive they would not attack Sakura's family, whoever they were. All the more reason for Shirou to fight on.

He leapt into the fray, even as Jonathan barked orders to his frightened and injured soldiers, retreating to the very back of the formation. Shirou's eyes narrowed; a monster and a coward. How much lower could someone get from there? Nevertheless, he went into his battle mindset inherited from Archer, using a version of the Eye of the Mind (True).

He lashed out with Kanshou, slicing staves in half and breaking swords, even as Unlimited Blade Works copied them. Once weapons were destroyed, Shirou then made sure to disable the limbs of his opponents by slicing at the nerves, though at times his accuracy was not on form. This could probably be attributed to the fact his True Eye of the Mind didn't measure up to Archer's, who had fought numerous times in different versions and renditions of the Fifth Holy Grail War.

One magus attempted to spear Shirou right through his midsection. Shirou was moving even as the magus drew back for the stab that could have been fatal to him. In a moment, he brought his elbow down on the spear, shattering it into pieces. As its wielder gaped, Shirou reversed his grip on Kanshou and spun, beheading the enemy magus in an oddly delicate-looking display.

"I've got you!" A magus shouted, and made to bring down a mighty hammer right on Shirou's head. Shirou could even see the kinetic energy gathering around the head of the weapon.

He crossed Kanshou and Bakuya into an 'x' formation, letting the hammer hit them instead of him. Almost instantly sparks began to erupt from the tension existing between his swords and his enemy's hammer. Luckily, however, Kanshou and Bakuya were Noble Phantasms, capable of shrugging off mortal weaponry.

This was one such time when their superiority to mortal weaponry was proven to be fact, not fabrication.

"You may have proven yourself to be a superior warrior, rogue, but you are no match for my magecraft!" The magus boasted, and Shirou almost felt pity for how suicidally confident this guy was. "Even now, your swords are breaking from the might of my hammer!"

The magus attempted to put weight onto his weapon and thus break Shirou's. However, even though the magus didn't know it, these two swords were Noble Phantasms, and thus they were not going to be broken by anything other than someone stronger than them or by Shirou's own decision.

"What is this?!" The magus said in amazement as Shirou's blades did not falter or break as he had originally thought they would. "How are those blades not breaking into bits?!"

Shirou gave a tight smile. "Let's just say it's my own craft."

With that, Shirou gave a yell and brought Kanshou and Bakuya apart, breaking the incredible hammer simultaneously. The magus only had a few seconds to react, and that was enough time for Shirou to stab both of his swords through his chest. The magus looked down in surprise at his chest, before looking into Shirou's eyes.

"Sorry, but it was your own overconfidence that caused this." Shirou said truthfully and ripped his swords out of the man's body, letting the corpse flop to the ground, blood pooling.

Once more, Shirou felt uneasy at the blank eyes of the formerly-alive magus. In his first deployment, Shirou had very much nearly thrown up after the deployment had been finished. That time there had been not nearly as many as this force, but it had been enough to give Shirou nightmares.

He still got nightmares, as a matter of fact, whenever he wasn't having to protect the families of his friends and loved ones. Perhaps Archer had gone through such a process? Recalling the faces of all those he had killed for his flawed ideal until he broke and broke and _broke_?

He couldn't think about such things right now. He had to finish up this situation fast, before any of the magi got scared and decided to run or go after Hana on their own. Shirou's mind instantly focused again once he realized what that would mean for Rin's family. He couldn't afford to be wishy-washy about this.

He had to _focus. _

With ruthless precision Shirou cut his way through the magus force. He would throw one of his blades through some of his enemies, and while it curved around in a boomerang, desperate to return to its partner, Shirou had already lashed out at other enemies, carving through them.

Then, he leapt up into the air, and Broke Kanshou and Bakuya. As Broken Phantasms, their power increased substaintially, but they were destroyed once they detonated. This was not an issue with Shirou, as he could Trace them as many times as he wanted. He flung them down, more like black and white swords of light than material blades, and watched as they exploded, taking some of the forces with them.

As soon as he landed, he Traced them to his hands once more, and began a sequence of techniques. It was a modified version of the Crane Wing Three Realm that Archer himself had used multiple times. Shirou had come up with his own version, but also a version that targeted multiple enemies.

First, he spun in a circle, throwing Kanshou out into the enemies that had gathered around him, trying to bolster themselves. With the first strike, Kanshou destroyed their weapons or forced them back. It was enough for Shirou; as Kanshou flew back into his left hand he threw Bakuya in the opposite direction, spiralling out further than Kanshou.

Some were slashed deeply by the twin swords, while others managed to retreat. Because of this, Shirou Traced more copies of his most favoured blades into his hands, and threw them in an 'x' shape at the enemies. He repeated this process several times, before using Reinforcement to make Kanshou and Bakuya enter Overedge.

In this state, the two swords grew twice their original size, and they gained feather-like designs along the back end of the blades. With an extended reach, Shirou was able to strike down many in a single position, really only moving towards or away from enemies in order to kill more.

_-END F/SN SOUNDTRACK: EMIYA KENJI KAWAI VER 2-_

Eventually, Shirou stopped and let Kanshou and Bakuya's Overedge forms fade from his hands. He looked at the destruction he had caused; many of the fallen were missing limbs, and some missing heads. There were deep slashes across their bodies, from where he had striken them with his swords.

He looked down as his feet stepped into a liquid. He very nearly recoiled when he realized that the dark substance was actually blood. Yes, Shirou thought as he looked around the carnage he had wrought, he was a person of mass destruction. He could probably kill a great many more people than this.

Fitting for a Counter Guardian.

However, Shirou forgot this line of thought as he heard rustling, and turned towards it. Jonathan was trying to scurrying away like a rat, dishevelled and quite clearly terrified out of his mind. That was justifiable; he had every reason to feel like that. Shirou was initially surprised at the fact he had survived; he thought that his unforgiving assault would have ended Jonathan.

Shirou breathed in deeply, and walked to Jonathan. What was one more death on his conscience? Despite that he told himself they deserved it, he didn't feel any better. Out of all the times he told himself this, he never believed it. Never.

As Shirou stalked towards him, Jonathan turned demented eyes on the young swordsman, muttering nonsense even as he scurried back from the vengeful swordsman. It gave Shirou a kind of tranquil satisfaction to scare Jonathan like this, but there had already been enough messy deaths today. There was no point in making this one as gruesome as the rest.

"Please...Please!" Jonathan begged pathetically, backing away even as his clothes were further stained with blood. "Let me live! I'll give you power! Riches! Whatever women you could ever want! Just let me live, and they're all yours!"

Shirou's pace quickened, and his gaze became as hard as steel. Jonathan was now truly panicking. Shirou felt great disdain for this magus; he had the audacity to beg for his life when he had been so fanatical that he would have razed a whole family to the ground for a past action? How utterly deplorable.

"Why should I let you live?" Shirou asked the trembling noble. "Why should I let you live when you were going to completely eradicate the Tohsakas? I can understand why some magi would get angry, but to try and kill them just because of your obssession with Akasha? That's something I won't forgive."

"You're nothing more than a bloodthirsty psychopath." Shirou told Jonathan, Tracing a nameless blade in his right hand. It was jet black, and short like a dagger. It had a curve near the end of the blade, but it was deadly nonetheless. "I may not regret killing those who threaten them, but at least I mourn the circumstances. After all, those who live by the sword die by it, right?"

Jonathan, seeing that negotiations were pointless, got up and attempted to run away. Shirou's eyes narrowed, and he gripped the dagger with a steel grip. He turned away, and threw the dagger at Jonathan's head as he turned, his eyes closed against the scene. He heard the thud of the blade going through Jonathan's brain, and the squelch as the magus' body collapsed face first into the blood that had gathered on this field.

He felt himself fade back, going to report to Alaya. Once more, the faces of those he had killed this time entered the darkness of his eyelids, and for a moment they were oppressing, trying to force Shirou to recoil and go insane as Archer had done. But he wouldn't bend.

If he broke, Shirou knew that he would regret becoming a Counter Guardian for their sakes; he would try to avert becoming what he was. He wouldn't break in that case. Knowing him, he'd try to kill those who had influenced him so much. He wouldn't do that; he couldn't let himself break if that was the case.

So, as he disappeared from the battlefield, he said a line of the aria of his greatest weapon, that which had nearly killed him. But that which had granted him the power to save _her _from that corruption.

"_To protect her, I have created countless swords._

_Even if it means I cease to live, my blades will protect her forever more..."_

* * *

><p>Alaya watched as Shirou came back to its home dimension. As a Counter Guardian, Shirou had to report back to it after his mission was complete. That wasn't strictly needed, however, as Alaya always kept a look on the progress of its Counter Guardians, even if at times there were <em>millions <em>of them active.

Hey, it could multi-task.

It had watched as Shirou had carved through the forces that threatened the objects he had devoted himself to, and Alaya had to admit that it was impressed. It had been at least a thousand years since Shirou was 'employed', and Shirou's improved skills were proof of his long service.

It was rather refreshing to see Counter Guardian SHIROU not breaking like EMIYA did. EMIYA's breakdown had been at the very least irritating and annoying, as Alaya had thought he had known what he was going into. Ah well, let that silver haired grouch regret choosing a faulty ideal. He could blame no one but himself.

It was sure EMIYA knew that too.

As Shirou manifested in its domain, Alaya used its powers to choose a suitable form. Whenever it tended to its Counter Guardians, it always chose a form from the Counter Guardian's past or one of significance to them to be able to communicate easier. Though, even Alaya knew it would be in slightly bad taste to be in Sakura's form; Sakura had always been unique to Shirou, and it thought it would somewhat sour the mood as Shirou would be forced to recall that when he had died, he had left her behind.

It thought it best not to mention what had happened to Sakura after he had died. Alaya had mercy after all.

So it chose Arturia's form; armor, dress and everything about her before she had been corrupted. Gaia was pissed as it took the form of the King of Knights, but Alaya merely gave it a mental gesture that amounted to what the mortals called 'flipping the bird'.

Shirou finished materialising, and looked at Alaya's form, scanning it, taking in every detail. Shirou never verbally mentioned his displeasure for Alaya's need to play dress up, but the slight irritation was there.

"...At least you got the form right this time." Shirou snarked, and Alaya felt a smile bloom on its borrowed face.

"Ah, that time I was just messing with you, SHIROU." Alaya confessed, not the least bit guilty for the long rooted deception. "I like to entertain myself in ways like that. From what I can recall of mortal culture, the proper sentence would be that I 'trolled' you."

It saw Shirou sigh, and his eyebrow ticked. Alaya allowed internal laughter; after all, it loved getting under the skin of its own Counter Guardians. It hardly had any company seldom them really. It had to amuse itself somehow.

"I guess I should've figured that out..." Shirou complained briefly, before silence set down on the two for a minute as they watched the ever descending sun set in the horizon.

"You know, I've forgotten how many times I've been called by you." Shirou said conversationally. Alaya looked at Shirou in interest; they never really _talked_; this was the first time that he was actively speaking to it without Alaya prodding him. It seemed whatever he was talking about was bothering him.

"I think I can understand why Archer went insane, in the end." Shirou sympathised with the future version of himself, of a version of him who clung to that fake ideal with an almost childlike naivete. "All the killing...all the calls...I can see all of those I've killed in my 'dreams' and when I close my eyes.

"Archer probably had to see so many more than me," Shirou continued, now lost in thought. "After all, he contracted you so that he could protect the world, right? He must have broke when he realised he couldn't save everyone, or save the world. But...I don't think I'll end up like Archer."

At Alaya's raised eyebrow, Shirou smiled sheepishly before continuing. "We both have different ideals, right? His was to save everyone, and really he became a person to kill ten to save a hundred, and a dozen to save thousands. I'm a lot different; I gave up on that ideal to save Sakura. I damned so many people to die for her. Where he was selfless, I was selfish. Because I couldn't do that-I wouldn't have been able to kill anyone close to me if it meant saving more people."

Alaya looked at Shirou. It was clear this had been bothering him for a long time, or else he wouldn't have brought it up. Still, Alaya could see some sense in Shirou's words; Archer had been so pathetically naïve when they had forged a contract it was just so hilarious. Especially when he found out he had to _kill _people; living people, not Servants.

Oh, he had broken when he had found that out. He had broken into so many pieces he had never truly brought himself back together. He had gone insane from the revelation, and eventually decided if given the chance he would kill his younger self to erase himself from existence.

How selfish. If EMIYA had succeeded, how many more people would have died? How many that were close to him would have lived worse lives than when he had been there? Sakura definitely, and possibly Ilya. Sakura would eventually have just broken, even without Shirou, and Ilya would have died a year after the Fifth Holy Grail War in sadness, and perhaps spite at how she had been manipulated her whole life.

But SHIROU was different, as he had said just now. Perhaps there was a chance that he wouldn't break; if only so that the same suicidal thoughts that plagued EMIYA wouldn't haunt him. And if he did break, then the same method of killing himself to instill a paradox would be born.

SHIROU wouldn't do that. Even if he did try to kill himself, he would probably stop. Sakura, and Rin and anyone else who cared about Shirou would get in the way of his goal. This Shirou was so much more attached to them than EMIYA, that Alaya almost thought them a different person.

"Care to tell me why you're getting so philosophical, Shirou?" Alaya asked, a cat smile on its borrowed face. "You've never really brought this up in our previous meetings."

Shirou seemed embarassed, and scratched the back of his head. Still the same Shirou, even after centuries of fighting and killing. "It's just that I've been seeing the faces of dead people when I close my eyes at times. At the beginning, it wasn't really that bad, but now-it's getting a little maddening."

"So you're surprised, then?" Alaya finally asked, having been thinking how to put its questions into the right form. "You're surprised at how many people want to kill Rin's future family? And continue experimentation on Sakura?"

Shirou nodded, before Alaya grumbled and continued on with its speech.

"Shirou, ever since they begun magi have wanted to reach Akasha; not merely for the benefits it would reap but just to see it. In their selfishness, they've corrupted how many generations of their families, and as a result of this idiotic ambition many have died and will continue to die. They are so fanatic they literally can't comprehend anything else."

"I couldn't care less if they go insane from not reaching Akasha," Alaya continued. "It's just that it's a waste of perfectly good children and grandchildren who should be put to work doing what they're good at. It's counterproductive to force a human to do something from birth-yes, it is _very _counterproductive to do that."

This reminded Shirou that Alaya didn't think in 'mortal' or 'human' terms. It thought in pragmatism; it used every resource at its fingertips to its advantage and to save humanity and by extension itself. Its kind of morality was not black and white; it was blue and orange. Too different for Shirou to comprehend or understand.

Yet Alaya's talk of selfishness uncomfortably rang in Shirou's soul. He could eventually become that selfish, and probably had over the centuries; killing any who had threatened his loved ones. After all, wasn't that the basis of their contract? That Shirou would be able to protect them all in exchange for killing, killing, killing?

Maybe he wasn't as morally better than them, as he originally thought? It gave him pause to ponder that particular thought, before reaffirming that he had lines he didn't cross. Fundamentalist magi didn't have lines they wouldn't cross to get to Akasha. They would do _anything _to get to Akasha.

...Why did it suddenly seem that, to Shirou at least, he was just trying to convince himself?

"You know, Shirou, you're much stronger than Archer." Alaya complimented, having seen Shirou absorbed by his thoughts. "He broke, but you haven't. You're near the breaking point, though, but by this point he was already broken from following that false ideal of his, no matter how beautiful it was. In my personal opinion, it's better to be selfish for a few people, than to be selfless for the world and throw away close bonds for that ideal Archer had once."

However, suddenly Shirou felt a sort of lightness in his form, and he was shocked to see that white 'flakes' were coming off of his spiritual body. In a few more moments, Shirou was sure that his entire body was glowing and splitting apart into flakes. He shouted in surprise, and Alaya raised an eyebrow.

It had seen this sort of thing multiple times with EMIYA being summoned as Archer. Yes, that meant that Shirou was being summoned to a Holy Grail War. Alaya's borrowed eyes narrowed; this had never happened in Shirou's service, so why was it happening right now? It made no sense!

"What...what's going on?" Shirou shouted in alarm, as his lower body began to disappear into white light. "What's happening to me?!"

"You're being summoned, Shirou." Alaya said, uncharacteristically serious, which grabbed Shirou's attention. In all the time he had known Alaya, it had never been serious; more fun and outgoing. Now, its demeanor suited the face of Arturia that it had borrowed. "You're being summoned for a Holy Grail War."

Shirou was paralyzed in shock; he had never been summoned for a Holy Grail War, and he was very much terrified of being summoned for the Holy Grail War. If he was being summoned for the Fifth, if he was summoned by the wrong Master; he would be ordered to kill the Masters.

Rin, Ilya, Sakura as well as Saber...and if he was summoned by a poor magus, then a Bounded Field would be used to empower him. His mere existence would kill so many just because of the incompetence and the sadistic Master he would be summoned by. It didn't bother him, if he was summoned to fight.

It _scared _him that he would have to fight and kill Saber, or at least die trying. He would be doing the same job as Archer; he would see himself, and those he cared about and _know _that those versions of them _were not his. _They wouldn't have developed the friendship and bonds with the 'normal' Shirou.

He would be tortured by that fact, most likely. It wouldn't be bad until he either fought Archer or came across Sakura and Rin. He would be painfully reminded that they weren't the ones _he _had formed bonds with. And the Shirou he would meet _would not be him. _Perhaps that was part of the reason Archer had gone mad.

Being summoned for Grail Wars for centuries, always knowing that _he _was Shirou, but everyone else involved was _not _the ones he had bonded with. An identity crisis, and unimaginable pain that would have awaited him. It gave Shirou pause that Archer's planning to kill him was a defence mechanism as much as desperation; killing the past Shirou would maybe resolve his sanity and he would stop being tortured by the very people he had failed in life.

"I'll give you some warning, Shirou." Alaya offered kindly, as his vision began to get bright. "When you're summoned, some of your memories that pertain to people involved will be surpressed. You'll regain them in time, but be prepared. EMIYA complains a lot about that."

Fear struck Shirou, as he became aware that he would undergo the same process that had happened in the cavern; he would lose the memories of those who were most important to him. He would forget Rin, Fuji-nee, Saber, Rider, _Sakura..._

It was going to be exactly like that. He knew it.

"I guess I haven't got a choice, then." Shirou said, resigning himself to his fate, even as everything lost colour and everything became bathed in white.

"Don't worry Shirou; I know you'll do your best." Alaya said, and Shirou's heart skipped a beat as he saw a very familiar smile, and that same beautiful face he had held onto for his service.

"_Senpai...good luck..."_

Sakura...

Everything went white after that.

* * *

><p>He was floating in a void of white now. There was no sound, no smell, taste or even sight. Shirou knew he existed, but only because he himself was <em>aware. <em>Time passed eratically; sometimes it seemed like seconds, the next years. Thankfully, he wasn't aware for most of it; the pain and insanity would have blinded him.

Was this what it was like for Archer every time he had been summoned? The same void? Or was it something that was unique to Archer himself? It was interesting, but Shirou didn't care; it didn't matter if this was the same thing that always happened with Archer. He just cared about the here and now.

He cried out soundlessly as information assaulted his brain. He tried to grab it, but something was holding him back. New information was forcing itself into his mind; his Class, everything about the Holy Grail War. He was, however, glad to note despite the sensation of something _forcing _itself into his brain that he wasn't being summoned during the Fifth Holy Grail War.

He was being summoned...during the Fourth? The one that had created the 'original' Shirou? Even as Shirou concentrated on that nightmarish memory, it was being blanked out as if by paint. Horror filled him as he realized this was what Alaya had meant; he couldn't know the exact way the War had ended, for that would interfere.

All of a sudden, he began forgetting more and more things. Saber...Rin...even Kiritsugu and Ilya; everyone that had been involved in some form during this Holy Grail War. _Everything _was being changed, altered, _buried. _He could visualize it; every memory was being put under lock and key, behind a door that resembled a dark tower, the exact thing that had inspired it now escaping his mind.

However, when the supression had reached a girl whose name he forgot, with plum coloured hair and eyes, with a kind smile and wearing a white apron, _something _inside his mind refused to give it up. Despite the intense pain, he _refused _to lose the face or that image of the person most precious to him.

_He would not let that be taken away!_

But there was also another thought, another memory from the time before the fire. Something that gave Shirou pause, and a new resolve to fight.

It was in a house of which he couldn't recall any details. He remembered a woman with red hair, and a man with amber eyes. Their faces were blurred, but he felt happy in that place; safe. There was a bundle in the woman's arms, and Shirou could see that the baby-it had to be a baby-was looking at him with its own set of amber eyes.

The woman smiled, and held the bundle out to the younger Shirou, who tenatively took it into his hands. _"So, Shirou, are you going to be a good big brother to Miyu?"_

Younger-Shirou smiled, and the baby giggled as she grabbed his chubby pinky in her own tiny hand. _"Yep, Momma! Imma be the bestest brother ever!"_

A tear came to Shirou's eye as he recalled it; was that what his family had been like? Before the forgotten fire had forged him into something else? He clenched a fist as everything began to blur into everything else, but those two recollections refused to leave him despite the effort of the invading force.

Yes, Shirou decided, his mind becoming Steel as his resolve tightened into a weapon. The wish...the one wish he could make on the Grail, even as he forgot that it had been corrupted, though he still had a thought that _something _was wrong with it, but that thought wouldn't make Shirou act on it until he regained his full memory.

Not that he knew that.

His wish...his wish upon that Grail would be to save his family from death. Save them from death so that he could be selfish, and have a _proper _family-not like that which he had had with that blurred man who had saved him from death. For the first time, Shirou wanted to subvert fate.

And he would do so. He would save his family, through the wish he would win by fighting.

_And save her_, a voice full of Steel, that belonged to the memories that had been surpressed or locked away.

_Save them all..._

* * *

><p>All of a sudden, the white disappeared, and when he was able to be aware of his surroundings again, Shirou noticed he was in a dark cellar. It was the picture of all cellars; dirty, bloody, but he also noticed he was standing inside a summoning circle made of blood. Also, there were two people in front of him.<p>

One was wearing a dark blue hoodie, with white stripes down the sleeves, as well as brown pants and dark shoes. Shirou was horrified to see that the man was in great pain; his hair was shock white, and veins were twisting and turning on his face. One eye was blind, while the other was bleeding profusely.

He felt pity towards the white haired man, as it was clear that he was his Master, if the link of prana was any indication. It struck Shirou's core that the man seemed to have been in so much pain and yet managed to summon him anyway. It reminded Shirou of something that he had forgotten.

That irritated him greatly. But despite his misgivings, it took back seat to the current situation.

He noticed the old man too. He was bald, old wearing some sort of yukata. He was also heavily leaning on a stick for support. But it was the insane smile that he had on his face that made Shirou uneasy. It was almost as if the man was twisted, and monstrous. That smile did not belong on the face of any normal human.

Then, Shirou suddenly felt the need to stab that man with Kanshou and Bakuya, or better yet incinerate him with Surtr's sword. The reason why left Shirou, before the hatred blossomed again as the image of a girl with plum hair and eyes, smiling, came into his vision before she was turned into a white haired, sullen girl with red veins on her skin.

Why did he hate this man? Why did he wish to bring him some form of harm? It was uncharacteristic of Shirou to feel this-at least, that's what he thought-but there was something he had to do first. Alaya said he was being summoned, and thus he was a Servant. From what he recalled, Servants had to establish the contract between them and their Master first, in order to proceed.

"I am the Servant Avenger, of this Holy Grail War." Shirou declared, and he saw that both of the men were stupified. Was it because of his age? But he also knew that Avenger had been summoned for the Third Holy Grail War; were they surprised that Avenger had been summoned once again.

He turned to the fallen and bleeding man, resolving to put Avalon inside of him, to help the man regenerate and become somewhat healthy. "Are you my Master?"

The man struggled to answer, and as he tried to get up, Shir-_Avenger-_moved to his side, holding him up. The man seemed surprised, before answering in a laboured voice. "Y...yes. I, Kariya Matou, am your Master...for this War..."

Something struck Shirou about that surname, even as the image of the girl imposed itself on his mind again. He winced, but the pain went away soon enough. Why was this happening? Who was that girl who affected him so much?

"Then our contract is established. I'll fight to win the Holy Grail for you." Shirou confirmed, and as he helped Kariya up, he got the feeling that _something _would happen.

That something remarkable and amazing had been born that night, in a cellar that smelled like blood.

* * *

><p>In the dark Matou cellar, the cellar that had been Kariya's home for a year now, and the torture room for the little girl he swore to save, Kariya Matou was standing in front of the summoning circle made by his <em>lovely <em>father, Zouken, in preparation for the summoning of his Servant, for the Fourth Holy Grail War.

At the beginning, Kariya hadn't cared for the Holy Grail War; he had abandoned all things to do with magecraft when he had left his family behind years ago. Even though it had broken his heart into tiny pieces, he had left Aoi so that Zouken didn't have a chance to abuse any heirs into the Matou brand of magecraft.

In the end, Kariya grimaced, that had happened anyway. His blood boiled as he recalled that Tokiomi had given up his youngest daughter, Sakura, to Zouken. He had been angry when he found out, and had demanded to know why; out of fear and love for that small girl.

When he had found out, he was horrified and justifiably angry; that Tokiomi would give away his daughter for such a deplorable reason, to subject her to the Matous torture. To the worms. He had thought, despite Tokiomi's stiffness when they had first met, that he would be a good father. By God, he had hoped that would be it.

But now, he bore a rage for the Tohsaka that would condemn his own daughter to this fate. To such an end; he had made a deal with Zouken. He would win the Holy Grail, and in exchange Zouken would release Sakura from the Matous. It was the only option Kariya had; and he hoped with all of his heart that it would work.

Even if he died, he would get Sakura back to her family. Even if his body was failing him, he would do it. If he lost his legs to move, he'd use his arms. If he lost those, he would use his teeth. And if he lost those, he would use that parts that he didn't yet have. So was the depths of the determination of the one good Matou.

"You know, you're remarkably strong willed, Kariya. To have survived the worms as long as you have." The bastard's voice cut through the darkness, and Kariya's hatred was born anew.

He hated the man will all his being, but hating him would do nothing. He knew of the methods Zouken had used to extend his life for so long. Only a sufficiently talented magus would be able to kill him for good. And since Kariya needed to win the Grail, he couldn't use his Servant to kill the bastard. No matter how _satisfying _it would be.

He saw Sakura watching, from up on the 'observation deck' of the cellar, and felt his resolve renew itself. He turned his blind eye to his father, and spoke with absolute certainty. "As we agreed...I win the Holy Grail, and you give Sakura back to her family."

Zouken smiled; more of a grimace and a smile befitting horror film villains. "Of course. I have desired the Grail for many years; so in gratitude, I will grant your request, son of mine."

Zouken knew it would infuriate the younger man; to be called son by the most monstrous man in Fuyuki, but Kariya didn't give him the satisfaction, just turning back to look at the summoning circle. Zouken was slightly disappointed, but it didn't really matter. And because he hadn't found a catalyst in time, Kariya would be going in blind, so to speak.

Ah well, if he summoned a useless Servant, Zouken would win. And if Kariya, by some impossible chance, won the Grail then Zouken would win as well. Zouken didn't mind either path; as long as he got what he wanted, then he didn't particularly care. But it did give him sadistic joy to revel in Kariya's pain.

"It's unfortunate that I wasn't able to secure a catalyst in time," Zouken mused, cursing his own foolishness. Ah well, he would have won either way. "You better make good use of whatever suitable Servant is summoned by your crippled body."

"Any Servant summoned by _you_ will be weak," The confident way Zouken declared this irritated Kariya, who tried his best to ignore that bastard. "But, I will be pleasantly surprised if it will have _some _use."

Just as Kariya was beginning the Summoning Ritual, his thoughts turned one last time to Sakura. He remembered the horror he had felt when he had saw her in that pit; her beautiful blue eyes dull and unfeeling; her body naked to the horrors of those damnable worms.

He would save Sakura, Kariya swore. He would save her, like he had reiterated some moments ago, and make Aoi _smile _again. Maybe he was a love struck fool; partly doing this for Aoi's sake as much as Sakura's but he didn't care. As long as they were both happy by the end, Kariya didn't care.

And thus, he began the Ritual which would determine Sakura's fate. He just prayed it was successful.

* * *

><p><em>A base of silver and steel.<em>

_A foundation of stone and the Archduke of Contracts. And my great master, who is my ancestor Schweinorg._

_A stone wall to block the coming wind. Gates of the four directions lock. And from the Crown, follow the forked road to the everlasting Kingdom._

_Fill, fill, fill, fill, fill!_

_Repeat times five. _

_But destroy each that remains filled. _

_I hereby announce! By my will, your body shall be birthed, and thy sword shall create my fate. _

_Obey the summons of the Grail, and if thou agree, to this reason, then heed my call!_

_I swear upon my honor, that I will be the chief good amongst the immorality of the everlasting world. I will eliminate all evils in this everlasting, immoral world! _

_Thou, clad in the Great Trinity, come hither from thy restraints of thine circle! Guardian of the Heavenly Scales!_

* * *

><p>Blood leaked from his eyes as he spoke the ritual, but he ignored the pain as the worms inside his body reacted. He didn't even know that Zouken was giving a sick smile behind him. Light began to gather in the center of the circle, and Kariya could <em>feel<em> a bond being built, through the great pain wrecking his body.

When he finished, several things happened at once. Kariya fell to his knees, and coughed up an unhealthy amount of blood onto the floor. Secondly, the light intensified, and everything turned white. Kariya was sure that his one good eye was now blind, but he couldn't be exactly sure.

When the light cleared, agonising seconds later, they saw his Servant. He was wearing a dark red jacket with stab and slash marks adorning it, with black pants that had red lines streaking down them like Kariya's hoodie. He wore dark, steel-tipped boots plus a dark shirt, from what he could see, under the jacket. He could also see evidence of a hoodie.

Kariya was puzzled; and so was Zouken. Who was this mysterious Servant? Even Zouken's knowledge failed him, for he could not find evidence of any Heroic Spirit looking like the one in front of him. Zouken hated that. He hated the fact that he was useless, and that his great stores of knowledge were worthless.

But it benefitted his chances of getting the Grail. This meant that even with the Einzbern's homunculus that would no doubt serve as a Master-Jubstacheit would never bequeth that right to an outsider-, the stores of knowledge would be useless. It gave Zouken some satisfaction that that Einzbern would be stumped; put in their place as they should be.

The Servant's hair and face also gave them pause. The teen's hair seemed to have been naturally red, but there were large patches of white, and while his skin was slightly tan, it was also a darker tan in some places; in patches that were edged, as if they had been burned onto him. The Servant opened his eyes, and Kariya saw the very same determination that he had; those amber eyes were steel, and set to do some task with fervour until it was complete.

"I am the Servant Avenger of this Holy Grail War." The Servant said, his voice betraying the fact he was probably in his late teens. He turned those amber eyes onto Kariya's slightly broken form. "Are you my Master?"

Kariya struggled to his feet, still feeling great strain on his body from the Summoning Ritual, and was thankful that Avenger was by his side in an instant, and helping him up. Internally, Kariya was surprised; his Servant must be compassionate to do this. And it was the greatest kindness that he had ever been given by something that originated in this place.

Kariya had to laugh inside himself; he never thought he'd say that in his lifetime.

"Y...yes. I, Kariya Matou, am your Master...for this War..." Kariya managed to get, even as more spasms hit his body and more pain wrecked him, though he bit back the cries and did his best to ignore his pain.

"Then our contract is established." Avenger finished to Kariya, who was desperately trying to stay awake. "I'll fight to win the Holy Grail for you."

Meanwhile, Zouken was slightly dumbstruck; Kariya had summoned _Avenger? _He remembered that Avenger had replaced Berserker in the last Holy Grail War, and he also recalled grudgingly the weakness of _that _particular Servant. This Avenger even looked a little like the last one.

Did that mean that Kariya's Servant was going to be weak? He didn't have the ability to perceive the stats of Servants like Masters, so he decided to get Kariya to oblige him.

"So, Kariya, is your Servant weak or not?" Zouken asked the white haired man, who seemed to breath heavily before _looking _at Avenger. Such was the ability of Masters to perceive the stats of their own and enemy Servants.

A useful ability, for it could indicate that the enemy Servant was weaker and thus could be defeated, it could also show that the enemy Servant was stronger than one's own Servant, thus needing a tactical retreat. Granted, even weaker enemy Servants nearly always had a Noble Phantasm to make up for it, but there was hardly reason to be overly cautious.

As Kariya did that, Zouken noticed that the Servant had been looking at him. He raised a nonexistant eyebrow at the sheer rage and anger being directed towards himself. But there was also confusion in those amber eyes. Zouken was mildly wondering what kind of brain damaged Servant Kariya had summoned.

Well, two sides of the same coin, really.

"I won't deny it; I'm weak compared to other Servants, especially the ones who became Heroic Spirits before me." Avenger answered for Kariya, and Zouken felt annoyed at the Servant's freewill. Dogs should stay quiet until ordered, should they not? "But where other Servants are powerful-insanely so-I'm skilled in the power that I have. No one else is able to do what I can."

"Quite a boast, Servant." Zouken answered back, and that same blend of anger and confusion graced Avenger's eyes again. "So, you are weak but skilled? Hmph. You could have done better boy. Raw power is better than skill after all."

"No matter what you want," Avenger said sharply, defending Kariya which surprised the ill man. "My Master summoned me, and that means I am best suited for him. I will defeat Servants; I will win. That's my whole purpose for being here, right?"

"Enough, Avenger." Kariya said with great effort. Avenger turned to his Master, who was breathing heavily. "I...need to get a few things ...from my old apartment. Bring me there..."

Avenger's brow furrowed; he could see that his Master was frail, and looked like he would break apart at the slightest touch. So how had he gotten here from his own apartment? More so, what could he need from his apartment? Tools for magecraft immediately answered Avenger from his mind, but his Master seemed too ill for that.

Well then, most likely food supplies. That would make sense, really.

"Alright then, Master." Avenger nodded, and hefted Kariya up, mentally shocked at the lack of strength in the white haired man's frame. "Let's go."

He walked up the staircase with Kariya, only stopping when Kariya gave a look to a plum haired girl at the railings, who seemed as if she had lost a great deal. Suddenly, pain assaulted Avenger's mind, and there was a memory. A memory of a city, and that it was raining.

He was running, running to find someone. Nothing else mattered. Then, he found her. Her back was to him, and her school uniform soaked. It was as if she was in the depths of despair.

Through Avenger's mind, only one thought superceded all the countless others. What was happening? What _was _this?

He came back to the real world. Kariya looked at him, but Avenger conveyed that he was fine. There would time later to figure out the riddle of the plum haired girl. Right now, he had to get his Master out of here; his instincts were telling him now-screaming at him-that this wasn't a friendly place to be right now. And it killed him to leave that girl behind in such a place.

Why...why did it feel as if that thought pained him more than anything else?

"Well, Kariya! I hope you win the Holy Grail!" Zouken called out, even as the Master/Servant duo left the cellar. "Win the Grail, kill all in your way with that pathetic Servant of yours!"

Zouken laughed smugly to himself. Trust Kariya to summon a weak Servant, and an _Avenger _to boot. Kariya would lose the Holy Grail in a matter of days there was no denying it. Avenger had been pitifully frail in the Third Holy Grail War, so this one was painted with the same brush.

However, there were more important things to deal with.

"Oh, Sakura." Zouken called out, even as the pit filled with worms again. He took sadistic glee in the resignation of the young girl, looking forward to her despair. It was sweeter than wine, to the best of his knowledge.

"Time for some more training..."

* * *

><p><span><strong>Servant:<strong> Avenger

**Identity:** Shirou Emiya

**Master:** Kariya Matou

**Theme Song:** EMIYA -Kenji Kawai Ver 2-

**Alignment:** Neutral Good

**Strength:** C

**Endurance:** B

**Agility:** C

**Mana:** B

**Luck:** A

**Noble Phantasm:** ?

_**Class Skills**_

**Magic Resistance:** C

_**Personal Skills**_

**Battle Continuation:** A

**Clairvoyance:** C

**Eye of the Mind (True): **B

**Guardian Knight: **B

**Magecraft: **C+

**Noble Phantasms**

**Kanshou and Bakuya:** C-Rank. Twin swords made from human sacrifices and are beautiful to behold. Shirou can use a technique to transform them into 'Overedge' form, where they become more deadly. They are Shirou's main swords in combat.

**Arm of a Servant-The Greatest Weapon: **E-A Rank. This is the left arm of Archer, which he gave to Shirou. This Noble Phantasm allows Shirou to Trace any Noble Phantasms he has encountered, as well as use several from Archer's knowledge, but he cannot Trace Noble Phantasms that are ranked B+ and above without additional prana, and the Shroud of Martin MUST be unsealed for that as well.

**Shroud of Martin-The Holy Barrier:** Unknown Rank. This Noble Phantasm keeps Archer's arm in check, though it also restricts Shirou's Tracing somewhat. In order to Trace Noble Phantasms of A-Rank and above, he must remove the Shroud; however, this also allows Archer's arm to transform his body into living blades; as a result, removing this Noble Phantasm is only done in extreme circumstances.

* * *

><p><strong>Well, this is quite the longest thing I've ever written in my whole career! Over 10,000 words for a single chapter! I've got to give myself a pat on the back!<strong>

**So, Kariya summoned Shirou/Avenger. To my knowledge, only one reviewer guessed that. The reason I chose Kariya is because of their bond to Sakura, and the parallels they each have; they both love Sakura, and want her safe. They were willing to ally with Kirei, and they gained a dangerous power that would kill them most likely. **

**Well, I am glad of the reception this is getting, and I definitely will continue on with this. I also plan for Shirou to have a few more Noble Phantasms recorded in Unlimited Blade Works; I chose Surtr's sword mainly because of the destructive power. And the first half of the chapter was just to establish what Shirou's duties are. **

**I also tried to convey just how Archer became insane and wanted to kill Shirou. If I did a good job, then you'll accept it. I also gave an explanation for Alaya's muck up last chapter; it was trolling Shirou. Yes, the incarnation of human survival pulled a Nui Harumi.**

**Shirou's also changed a little from the last chapter; he's become a bit like Archer; slightly snarky, and he echoes some of Archer's words. I did this mainly because over the centuries he's been employed by Alaya, I highly doubt he wouldn't change his persona as a defence mechanism. **

**Oh, and I've changed that Campione idea I mentioned. Instead of being a Heretic God, Saber or 'Arthur Andrews' would become a Campione through killing King Arthur-he's a real Heretic God mentioned in series, by the way-, and I have a few Authorities planned. If this is a good change, then please mention so. **

**Finally, here is the preview for the next chapter, in the style of Fate/Zero:**

"So, you fight for the safety of that girl?"

"An Avenger...truly, Kirei, this is quite troubling. The second time an Avenger has been summoned..."

"So, Saber. How confident are you that your invisible sword will defeat my spear?"

"What mongrel dares to insult the king by forcing him to stand on the ground?!"

"Kill him. Kill Archer."

"Trace...on... Jarngreipr!"

**Also, if someone could draw a new fanfic cover for this story, I'd appreciate it. I'm not really a good artist myself. And my update schedule for this will be a little different; I'll most likely write about 1000 words a day for this, some days even more. So don't worry if I don't update in a week. Chances are I'm still writing the next chapter.**

**(23/12/14) Also, I had to change a few things with this chapter that made more sense in hindsight, so forgive me for giving a false sort of update. Sorry guys, just had to change a few things mainly to do with Shirou's Noble Phantasms. **


	3. Chapter 2: Battle at the Docks Part I

**Chapter 2: Battle at the Docks Part I**

* * *

><p><em>Several hours later...<em>

In Fuyuki City's resident church, Kirei Kotomine stood in the illustrious cellar, illuminated only by the fire of the candles. He was stoic, standing still and proud, and his priest clothes were impeccably clean and orderly. However, there was something inside those dead brown eyes of his that naturally made anyone who knew him feel weird and strange. It was as if he had no soul, as if he was just a ghost.

To their credit, they were almost entirely correct.

Kirei Kotomine was a Master in the Fourth Holy Grail War. He was the Master of Assassin, the Servant of the Shadows. For whatever reason, that was unknown to him, the Grail had chosen him in order to fight for its power. The problem was, Kirei himself was sure that he had no wish. He had never been baited by anything in the world; just a mere curiosity, nothing more than that. However, the Grail had chosen him anyway.

It troubled him. Why was he, a man without ambition, chosen by the legendary artefact despite this simple fact? He had since come to the conclusion that the Grail must have chosen him for some other purpose, though he had no idea what that currently was. It was not exactly irritating, but it wasn't peaceful. It was a mix of the two.

As soon as Gilgamesh, Fifth King of Uruk had been summoned, a plan had been invoked. One of Assassins bodies would be sacrificed in order to show off the golden-clad Servant's power, while simultaneously eliminating Kirei from the equation; thus, he would be free to go after the opposing Masters. Even now, he had Assassins watching the other Masters excepting those that were still abroad.

Though, a troubling thought was that Caster had not yet been summoned; this was strange, since it meant that some unknown magus had been chosen to be a Master, and thus it would be easy pickings to take him or her out of the battle, courtesy of a few Black Keys through the throat.

Something resembling pleasure emananted from inside the younger Kotomine, and he immediately supressed it. That was his darkest secret, and the one that made him more of a monster than any other human on the planet. Ever since he was born, he took some satisfaction in causing strife, though he himself had not yet fully succumbed to this curse he had been born with. Why had he been born, then, when he was such a monster?

He heard someone come down into the cellar, and turned; he saw his father, Risei. A man in his advanced years, Risei had been the mediator in the previous Holy Grail War, and he was also the behind-doors ally with Tokiomi Tohsaka, the Second Owner of Fuyuki. This meant that despite the rules, the Church and Tokiomi were working together. It was in clear violation of the rules, but at the same time it made sense to take advantage of any connections.

"Is there something wrong, father?" Kirei asked, as even he had seen the tell-tale signs of worry and surprise on his father's face.

It was strange; his father had always been stoic, and almost silent like Kirei was most of the time. For something to get him this worried must be immensely important, and thus Kirei himself was curious; whatever could be the matter that would cause such distress.

"Yes, Kirei. Something strange has happened." Risei said, and turned his attention fully to his son. "You recall how there are typically seven Servant classes summoned in the Grail War?"

"Of course."

That was common knowledge; the selection of Servants were relegated to seven 'Classes'; Saber, Lancer, Archer, Rider, Caster, Assassin and Berserker. Each had their strengths and weaknesses, and if it were possible, Heroic Spirits would be eligible to be summoned for multiple classes, which affected their stats as well as whatever Noble Phantasms they had.

"Instead of Berserker being summoned, Avenger has once again taken its place." Risei said, and immediately Kirei was surprised; even his stoicism was slightly disturbed, as his eyes widened slightly.

In the last Grail War, the Einzberns had attempted to summon Angra Mainyu, All the Evils in the World, as their Servant because they were tired of losing every single engagement. Angra Mainyu had been summoned as a unique Class, Avenger. However, that War's Avenger had been exceptionally weak and one of the first to be eliminated.

But for Avenger to have been summoned instead of Berserker for the second time...Kirei could see why his father was alarmed. Kirei gave some thought; Tokiomi would have to be informed immediately, now that the standard lineup for the Servants had been changed. This could derail some of their plans if it was left without attention.

"The reason I initially assumed it was Berserker summoned was because of the similar 'presence' of the Classes; since Avenger had been summoned instead of Berserker before, and because of my age, I was unable to discern the difference." Risei explained, though Kirei himself was wondering whether or not it was because Risei was _afraid _of the possibility of Avenger.

"I will inform Tokiomi immediately." Kirei said to his father, who nodded and went up once more to tidy the church. Kirei himself understood that it was so that the worshippers were comforted by the silence and solemn attitude. It was puzzling to Kirei, as to how people could take comfort in being told things from a book.

But he himself obeyed the Bible without question, because it was the family business.

He proceeded over to a device that somewhat resembled a graphophone of the previous century. He knew that it was powered by a jewel topped with prana, and that Tokiomi's own had a special apparatus for writing down reports from his spies in the Clock Tower. It was extravagent, and was something of a trophy to Tokiomi; a pinnacle of his own brillance.

But Kirei himself could see the flaws in the device. It was very pricey to be powered by a jewel; they cost a lot of yen in order to buy in bulk, or one at a time. It would be far more efficient to have a fax machine; unlike the Magus Association, the Church had adapted well with the developing technology of the ages.

But as with all mages, Tokiomi was incredibly prideful in his reputation as a magus. No one of his family would be using technology as long as he lived, no matter how impractical it made their lives. It was somewhat of a shame, as even Kirei could see that Rin would benefit from being able to use technology for homework and such instead of going to a local library. To be fair though, this had also increased her intelligence but denied her many chances to make some friends.

Kirei had eventually come to the opinion that in order to be a 'magus' one had to renounce their status as a 'human' and a 'person'; forsaking pleasure all for the sake of pursuing the Root. It was almost a great shame, Kirei thought, before he tuned those thoughts out of his head.

They were merely distractions.

"_What is it Kirei?" _The voice of the Tohsaka now came through the graphophone, though slightly scratchy. _"Has something happened?"_

"My father has informed me that it wasn't Berserker that was summoned, it was Avenger instead." Kirei dropped the bomb on the Tohsaka heir, and he could almost vividly see in his mind's eye the look of shock and disbelief on that somewhat dull and smug face of Tokiomi's.

That feeling pulsed through him again, and this time he did not even recognise it; he instinctively repressed it as he normally did so when he was talking to someone. Tokiomi had gone very silent now, and Kirei could tell he was thinking through his options and what this would mean.

"_.An Avenger...truly Kirei, that is quite troubling. The second time an Avenger has been summoned..." _Tokiomi finally replied to the report, and he sounded very pensive. _"For Avenger to be summoned in place of Berserker for a second time is indeed troubling, but ultimately of no consequence. Avenger was weak in the last War, and it will be so once more."_

That hubris of Tokiomi's made Kirei frown; as an Executor, he knew that it was very dangerous to underestimate opponents, even if some enemies seemed like ones that were weak before. Kirei had learned relatively early on in his career that even something as small as a cat could give him trouble if he let down his guard for even a second.

"_However, this works to our benefit as well. With Avenger taking the place of Berserker, this means that the most powerful player is out of the game. How very fortuitous." _Tokiomi continued, and Kirei could see the sense in such a statement.

As the Servant enslaved by his madness, Berserkers tended to be, well, mad and unable to think. They also typically were incredibly strong in all of their stats, especially their strength. It was commonly known that Saber was the best all-around Servant for the War, but Berserker was the one that was the physically strongest. If one wanted to utterly eradicate their foes, Berserker would be their ideal Servant.

"I see. I'll have Assassin try and locate Avenger." Kirei responded at last; locating the irregular Servant was paramount, and in order to defeat Avenger they would have to learn of its abilities. Weak or not, if Avenger was skillful enough he could most likely overcome those particular points. "Though, it will most likely take some time."

"_Do what you will Kirei," _Tokiomi ordered the younger Kotomine. _"Avenger is merely a setpiece; its existence in this War ensures our victory. Good night."_

Without a word, the Tohsaka disconnected the devices, and Kirei was left alone in the flickering light. He was silent for a moment, before one of Assassin's incarnations appeared behind him; he had sensed it. He semi-turned to regard the incarnation, which was the one that took the orders in person, rather than letting another incarnation assume her duty.

"You are aware of your task?" Kirei asked, not even bothering to ascertain if Assassin knew of its new additional task. Assassin always seemed to know what they were supposed to do, even if Kirei's refined senses as an Executor were doing their best to locate the Servant.

Clearly, the Assassin's Presence Concealment skill was as useful as it was slightly annoying, though Kirei didn't really mind. All that mattered to him right now were to follow Tokiomi's instructions to the letter. He had sworn himself to the Tohsaka heir, so it was to be expected that he obey the man. Even if he was somewhat behind the times and full of hubris.

"Of course, Master." Assassin replied, and gave a respectful sort of bow to its Master. "We will work to find and observe Assassin immediately. Three of us will work to find Avenger while the rest of us continue our observations."

Kirei nodded his approval, and Assassin didn't disappear so much as _melt _into the shadows. Even though Kirei himself had witnessed it several times it was still slightly unnerving. Now, he was truly left alone in the isolation of the Church cellar. Now, his thoughts turned back to more important matters.

Kiritsugu Emiya. He had been hired by the Einzberns to protect the Master most likely, but Kirei was very much intruiged by the Magus Killer. The man devoted himself to so many atrocities, as simple as switching a television channel or reading different books while discarding others. His initial assessment had been that Kiritsugu was much like Kirei himsef; empty, and looking for a purpose in life.

However, Kiritsugu had disappeared off the face of the Earth at least a decade ago; that was why Kirei was interested in him-the fact that Kiritsugu held the same hollowness as himself should have meant that Kiritsugu would keep on the radar, doing whatever to fulfill or find a purpose.

Why had Kiritsugu decided to disappear? What motivation could there possibly be? That was the crux Kirei had been facing for sometime. Why had Kiritsugu decided to abandon his empty nature for something, and what could have possibly made him abandon his efforts to find a purpose?

* * *

><p>Elsewhere in Fuyuki, Avenger had managed to reach Kariya's old apartment with his Master's directions. The closer he drew to it the more that Avenger was becoming aware of the decrepit state of the buildings; perhaps these were the ones that were going to be tore down and rebuilt for the new development project.<p>

Avenger's memories had settled somewhat, so he knew he had been born here, and he recalled this area of buildings being much more modern. Given that, as of this year, he would be eight, then this was ten years before he became a Counter Guardian. Though, the sense of _edge _filled his mind as they drew closer to Kariya's apartment. For some reason, Avenger was on edge; perhaps it was because of the graffiti, or the untidyness and decrepit nature of this apartment block?

It didn't matter now, since he had managed to get them inside the apartment without much trouble, other than gently breaking down the door. To be fair to Kariya, it was a rather nice apartment and thus the initial opinion was a result of judging a book by its cover. It was essentially one large sitting room, with an old TV-by Avenger's standards-and doors leading to the bathroom and bedroom. There was also a refrigerator standing inside the kitchen area.

Everything was slightly covered in dust, and was worse in the state of the kitchen, which made Avenger feel _off_. He had always liked kitchens to be organized, and clean so that he could cook. This was almost like blasphemy to him, though there had to be a reason for its ruined state.

"This is the place?" Avenger asked his Master, wanting to confirm Kariya's words. Kariya nodded, and Avenger set his Master down gently against a wall, watching with concern as his Master's breath was slightly laboured.

"Yeah...get-get the supplies from the fridge. There are some non-perishables in the cupboards as well..." Kariya managed to get out, before he coughed up an unhealthy amount of blood as well as disgusting worms that Avenger realized were Crest Worms. He blinked; how had he known that?

It didn't matter, and he set about doing the duty that his Master had assigned him; he Projected a pack and scooped in the goods that Kariya had highlighted, which contained foods like rice and pasta that would be simple to prepare. It seemed to Avenger, even as he tiptoed around some suspicious goop on the floor, that the apartment had not been in use for quite sometime. He decided to inquire about it with his Master later on, but he had a task to do now.

He also packed the equipment that would be necessary in order to cook the food, and even if he hadn't been able to gather the minimum needed, he could simply use Projection. He smiled as he recalled that someone from when he was alive would have scolded him furiously if she had realized he was abusing his magecraft for such a petty task.

_Honestly, Shirou! Don't be such an idiot all the time! Don't use that so trivially!_

Even though he could barely see her face, and couldn't remember her name, it was comforting. If he was human, he might be diagonosed as clinically insane for hearing voices, but it was strangely comforting to him all the same. He completed the task, and returned to Kariya, who looked at him with the one eye that wasn't blind.

He felt great pity for his Master; for whatever purpose, he had been transformed into this state of his own free will, if what he had pieced together from that encounter with that _notalivenotdead _old man and that purple haired girl that still seemed so familiar to Avenger and yet so _un_familiar at the same time.

He remembered EMIYA's knowledge that was slightly trickling into his mind all the time and gathered that this would sort itself out in no time, if those foreign memories were to be trusted. And given that they were from an alternate-future version of himself he had little reason to doubt them.

"Master, I'm done gathering the supplies. What are we going to do next?" Avenger asked, and Kariya struggled to get up, almost falling. Avenger dropped the pack and helped Kariya stand. He picked up the supplies again, and slung them onto his shoulder.

"We're...gonna leave now, Avenger..." Kariya got out labourously, and Avenger frowned in concern at his Master's state. "We've...gotta move around Fuyuki...stop others from finding us..."

Kariya almost collapsed again, but Avenger kept himself up. He poured through the knowledge that he had gotten from EMIYA's arm. There were numerous Noble Phantasms that could heal Kariya, but they wouldn't last over a long period of time; some of them, like the Golden Fleece really worked best instantaneously, and the effects would decrease.

It had to be a Noble Phantasm that regenerated and healed the one it was given to in whenever wounds appeared. It had to be working all the time, and easy to restore; the thing about most Traced Noble Phantasms is that they disappeared as long as he didn't supply prana to them.

Instantly, one sprung to mind; an object that Archer himself had seen and recorded during one of his journies to Greece and the remnants of where the Roman Empire had once stood, but Shirou could circumvent that by 'changing' the aspect of that particular Noble Phantasm so that it fed off of his prana, activating when he was in its vacinity. Thus, the prana would act as a sort of loop; excess prana sent to him by Kariya would flow through him and to the Noble Phantasm, keeping it stabilized.

"What...are you doing Avenger?" Kariya asked, as Avenger put Kariya against the wall. Kariya himself was impatient to get onto the streets and try to find Servants; his pain was increasing his irritation, so this was unwelcome. "We have to go...!"

"Give me a moment, Master." Avenger said, his voice coloured slightly with an edge like steel. Kariya instantly recoiled; Avenger had not come across as the kind of Hero to be strict or forceful. "I might be able to help your condition."

Avenger closed his eyes, and he saw the image of Caduceus, resting inside of the broken remnants of Unlimited Blade Works; since he had forsaken his past ideals, he couldn't bring the Reality Marble into the world, but he could still record Noble Phantasms, though to truly Trace them and use them to their full benefits the Shroud of Martin would have to be released slightly. Time to begin.

Judging the concept of creation.

Hypothesizing the basic structure.

Duplicating the composition material.

Imitating the skill of its making.

Sympathizing with the experience of its growth.

Reproducing the accumulated years.

Excelling every manufacture process.

He made the necessary modifications to Caduceus; he changed its nature so that it would stay solid and in the world as long as he fed it some prana from his Circuits; and that excess prana he wasn't using when battling or not in conflict was being directed to sustaining it even better than if he was engaged. This would mean that Kariya would be healed as long as Avenger fed it prana; if he was either incapacitated for a period of time or killed, the Projection would cease to exist.

It would deduct from his normal battling potential, but he wanted to help Kariya, damn any logic, partly out of pity and partly because Avenger had never been able to stand those in trouble. It was a hold over from his previous ideals; he would help people if he wanted to, but he would first prioritise himself over them. Thankfully, both thought processes overlapped and agreed with each other this one time.

"Trace...on." Avenger whispered, and held out his hand to grasp the staff that didn't yet exist in the world. It was taking more prana than it normally would to Project it, but it was a small price to pay to save Kariya's life and allow him to live.

"Caduceus."

He wasn't helping Kariya out of a suicidal wish to protect everyone because of ideals that weren't his own; these ideals were his own, so no-one could condemn him except himself, or someone enough like him that could understand the ideal he had created for himself through pain and conflict. He forced it into Kariya's hand, forcing the weak man's hand around it.

The staff of the god Hermes and eventually used by the god-like healer Asclepius began its magic, Kariya gasped as a cool feeling quickly spread across his body, before it was replaced with a more normal feel to it; certainly better than the chaos the Crest Worms wrecked on him. Though, they weren't entirely gone, some had been completely eradicated by whatever Avenger had brought into existence and then handed to him.

Avenger meanwhile, used Structural Grasping to see Caduceus' progress. The healing magic was working well with Kariya's body, and he could see Crest Worms being killed and most weakened. He hoped they did not reproduce, but he would have to wait and see if that was true. Out of the two-hundred and twenty Crest Worms that had originally inhabited Kariya's body, about a quarter of that number had been killed; more were weakened, but not killed.

Avenger estimated that several weeks of this and Kariya's body would be mostly healed, except for some scar tissue. At least, he hoped it lasted that long. The staff of Hermes tended to go after the weaker 'illnesses' and 'internal damages' before tackling the other, stronger viruses or causes of illness.

Caduceus was normally an A-Rank Noble Phantasm, but because Avenger had needed to Project it in a hurry, during the Tracing process he had reduced it to a C+-Rank. It still had good healing capabilities, but it was not instantaneous as it might have been. It only gained that ability if it was wielded by one who was well-versed in healing magecraft or descended from Divinity. Avenger had none of those qualities, so this was the best he could do.

The staff itself was made of shining iron, with the facsimile of two snakes entwined around it, one gold and the other bronze. Each had one wing extending, so that when they came together at the top, the wings were outstretched like a bird's. All he had to do was wait and let Caduceus do its work for the next while. If the Crest Worms did not reproduce, then Kariya could probably live with only several in his body.

On Kariya's side, he was feeling better than he had for the long, terrifying year he had been at Zouken's house of horror. He even thought that he could see a blur through his bad eye, though he wasn't quite sure; it could just be a trick of the light. But he fixed his good eye on Avenger, and was in wonderment.

Just what was his Servant?

"What was that?" Kariya absent-mindedly found he could talk easier, and found some strength to lean on the staff. "What did you just do?"

"This is one of my talents, and part of my Noble Phantasm," Avenger explained; there was no need, to him, to hide what he could do from his Master. "I can recreate objects and their abilities. It's easier to Project weapons, but I can do occasional oddities like that. But, my reserves drain more than they usually do if I bend that rule."

Avenger gestured at the staff, before he slumped slightly, and Kariya felt some drain on his prana, though miraculously the Crest Worms were being agitated. He had never been a good magus, but he could feel the basic route of prana. It was going to Avenger, then...back to him? What?

Avenger must have noticed the puzzling look, because he began to explain it. "Normally, when I Project or Trace, the lower the rank of the object or weapon the longer it can remain on this world before it disappears. Usually, as long as I wield the object, enforcing it with my prana then it stays in the world. I've never tried it for an extended period of time."

"So, I decided to change the attribute of that staff; I can modify the objects I 'record' to an extent; it was really simple to rewire it so that it runs off my own prana. It'll stay materialized as long as I keep feeding it prana, and then you'll keep on being healed. As a Master, you feed me enough prana to fight and materialize; I just took advantage of that loop. I'll be less efficient in combat, but it's a small price to pay so that you live."

It was true, Avalon might have been a better substitute, but that was more for preserving the condition of the body when it was implanted. He wasn't even sure if he could modify Avalon to work for Kariya the same way Avenger had modified Caduceus to work; Avalon was an EX-Rank Noble Phantasm, and though Avenger had been implanted with it for years, he wasn't sure if it would work. He'd give the staff a chance before trying Avalon, at least.

Kariya was stumped; he had expected that his Servant would have done this with pragmatism in mind; keep Kariya healthy so that he doesn't die before he has to. His Servant seemed to have that kind of air. But at the same time, Avenger seemed to be rather nice and cared about Kariya's wellbeing beyond being a Servant.

"Why do you care so much about me?" Kariya asked, and his Servant inclined his head to his Master in order to hear him better. "Why would you limit yourself just for me?"

"Because you need it. Because I really can't stand people dying in front of me if I can help it." Avenger explained again, casting his gaze to the ceiling. "You're fighting for something, something you'd give your life for. I guess...I can understand that motivation, because it's a lot like mine."

"Just...who are you, Avenger?" Kariya said, oddly touched by the display of kindness demonstrated by his Servant. It was practically the first kindness he had experienced since he came back to Fuyuki. "Which Heroic Spirit are you?"

Avenger pondered the question, turning his focus inwards. His memory was still in bits and pieces, some more whole than others. Behind all of the shards, there was one spark though, one image that was absolute. A burning fire, and a dark tower that was menacing. Death, death death death...

That had been his birthplace. That had been where Avenger had been created and forged into who he had been before he became a Counter Guardian. He vaguely remembered someone taking a hold of his stubby hand, and tears fell freely onto the face of him when he had been so very close to death.

"_You're alive..." _The voice had said, sad but immensely joyful at the same time. _"You are alive...!"_

"My memories are scattered, and broken into so many pieces I can't really remember my past." Avenger answered, and Kariya furrowed his brow. Looks like his summoning ritual had done something wrong; given that Kariya was a sub-standard magus this was to be expected. "But, there's one thing I can recall with absolute clarity. My name, my real name..."

Avenger smiled, and held out a hand in a sort of greeting. Kariya took it, and they shook their hands as a sign of friendship.

"Shirou. My name is Shirou."

"Kariya Matou." Kariya said, smiling despite himself. It seemed that Avenger was a nice enough Servant, and Kariya wondered how good they would get along with each other during the Grail War. "Let's get going, Avenger."

"Right." Avenger nodded, and he gathered the supply pack, steadying Kariya who was still somewhat weak. They went out the door, and walked to the industrial district. It was somewhat abandoned, so it was simplicity for Avenger to find a building that was not being used, and set themselves a temporary camp in one of the building's basement rooms.

Avenger busied himself with making sure that there was at least two escape routes; it wouldn't do for Kariya or him to be caught off-guard; Archer's memories helped Avenger immensely as he cleverly created some exits using a minor magecraft that Archer had picked up in his impossible striving towards an impossible ideal.

Archer could have done better, Avenger admitted. His was really just making an exit and hiding it behind a few crates stacked on top of each other, and that if Kariya walked through it all he'd have to do is tap the wall and it would begin to seal up behind him. It would delay anyone pursuing for just a few moments, but it would be enough for Avenger to get to Kariya's position and get him out of there.

He returned to Kariya, who was looking somewhat better now, though he was still leagues behind the picture of health. Kariya looked at Avenger, as his red-white haired Servant sat beside him. It was quiet, but Kariya valued the quiet; it was peaceful enough, and it meant he could get some rest before the Grail War really kicked off.

"Hey, Master." Avenger asked Kariya, who turned his attention to his Servant. "I've been meaning to ask, but what is your wish going to be, when you win the Grail?"

Kariya was pensive, and he recalled his reason for fighting, and for subjecting himself to the torture of the Matou magecraft, and the bastard Zouken. He remembered that park with green grass, and two girls playing together. They both had blue eyes and dark hair, and while one had twin tails the other had high pig tails. They were smiling and Kariya found himself smiling at the memory as well.

He remembered the woman he fell in love with too; the long brown hair and those kind eyes, along with her modest clothing. She was so kind, and so perfect that Kariya couldn't find any fault with her. They were all smiling now, and Kariya laughed; it had been a memory that had kept him going despite everything that had been thrown at him.

"I guess...it's not so much a wish as it is a goal I'm running towards," Kariya finally answered, and Avenger listened attentively. "I...there's someone close to me, someone who's in a lot of pain now. In return for winning the Grail, she'll be free to return to her family peacefully."

"That seems like a good goal to go for, Master." Avenger answered, and knew that it wasn't such a bad thing to want to save someone you knew; as long as you never threw yourself to the curb for total strangers for terrible reasons, Avenger saw no problem with that ideal. "Who is it you want to save?"

Kariya's vision suddenly rippled, and the purple haired girl with that look of defeat and utter hopelessness appeared. Immersed in worms, he could see she was slowly being submerged in that damn pit, until all after all she would ever be would be an obedient doll of Zouken's, with no desires and no family to support her.

"Sakura...Her name is Sakura." Kariya finally said, determination welling inside of him, as well as terrible anger for those who had put her in that position. "My father's training...it's going to ruin her, and she'll never be able to return to her family. I guess, it's really my fault."

Kariya laughed at himself, and Avenger frowned. "If I hadn't ran away back then...this might not have happened. If I had just become the heir and stayed that way, she might stil have been able to stay with her family, and grow up normal. But, if Aoi and I had had any children, my father would have utterly ruined their lives, making them hell; I couldn't do it back then-so I guess karma's came back for me."

That name...Avenger frowned, and something like sparks began to collect fragments of the memories in his head. Sakura. He felt pain well up in his head, and he gave a groan as pieces began to merge back into one particular memory, just one. It was an image tainted by static, but it was there all the same.

A girl his age with the same face as that girl from the cellar; but she was much more developed, and with a ribbon tied on the left side of her longer hair. She was wearig an apron, with a flower design, and the one other thing he could recall about her was that vibrant smile. Everything else was too affected by static to be noticed, but Avenger _remembered _her.

Kariya didn't notice Avenger's momentary discomfort, and continued on as his tone became more angry and rage filled. "That bastard Tokiomi, sending his daughter to that place! Because of his damn pride as a magus, he condemned her to that fate! I'll save her, even if it's the last thing I do, and I'll spite Tokiomi's damn pride when I do!"

Avenger noticed that Kariya was growing increasingly angry, and he knew that that kind of anger wasn't healthy, but it wasn't sick either. It was more of a righteous fury, but it could very easily turn into something much more ugly. Back when he was alive, even when he had been so damnably naïve, he had known that anger came with a terrible cost.

"So, you fight for the safety of that girl? But...if she was his daughter, why would he knowingly send her to that place?" _That place _and hell rippled through Avenger's memories, as if he had seen it somewhere before now. "Why would he condemn his own daughter if he knew what would happen to her?"

"Family doesn't mean anything to Tokiomi," Kariya said derisively. "All he cares about is his status as a magus. Just because of the rules he gave her away without so much as a goodbye! He'll condemn his whole family for a hopeless goal, even if it means that they will never be happy or have a good life. Damn him...damn him to hell!"

Kariya roared his anger, and he felt the Crest Worms agitate. Avenger was silently listening and trying to come to a conclusion. Blinded by righteous fury, and the love he had for those Kariya wanted to protect...that could lead him to ruin, Avenger knew. Hadn't he himself become contracted by Alaya as he had forsaken all others to protect that girl in his fractured memories? He had been so selfish, but he had wanted to save her through whatever means.

Was Kariya like this as well? Was he letting his desire to save Sakura-

_Girl in apron, smiling at him._

-Get to his head? Was he becoming just as bad as he made Tokiomi out to be? Granted, Avenger understood Kariya's standpoint on events, and he himself was growing even more angry; it had always been a deep rotted disgust that surfaced, whenever he thought that parents weren't taking care of their children.

Children deserved to be protected, at all cost. If he had a choice between saving a pet to a child, Avenger would choose the child. Even if parents rushed, he would protect those small children from harm. But Kariya's account seemed biased; only an insane father would subject their child to that kind of torture.

He kept that to himself; he didn't want to anger his Master right now. Maybe in a while, once the Grail War had started, then he would bring it up. But he could see that Kariya was immensely stubborn, like himself. He wouldn't give in without a fight. Perhaps he would have to do some independent investigating...

"Master, eventually we may need to form an alliance." Avenger said practically. Despite his strengths, if he fought a Servant other than Caster or Assassin, if his opponent went all out then he wouldn't be able to win. They were all faster than him and even if he had slain a giant before he became a Counter Guardian-

"_Tr...n..."_

_ ...of.."_

_S.t..."_

_**Nine Lives Blade Works...**_

-There was absolutely no chance he could stand against Saber unless that class was weakened. Certainly, if he fought a Berserker that went for him, he wouldn't be able to block. Thus, the natural conclusion was to form an alliance with one of the Masters. Maybe Caster, though for some reason Avenger disliked that notion.

"Perhaps if we formed one with Tokiomi-"

"No! Absolutely not, Avenger!" Kariya snarled, his anger flaring again. Avenger hadn't slipped up; he was going to explain it as necessity. Tokiomi must be powerful, so they would have to at least consider an alliance. "We'll win the Grail-the both of us! And we'll leave Tokiomi in the dirt!"

"Sorry, I didn't mean to make you angry, Master." Avenger apologized. "I knew that you wouldn't want an alliance with Tokiomi, but we have to at least consider the possiblity; even if we don't ally with him, we can ally with others if we can."

Kariya calmed down, and he rationally thought through Avenger's plan. It made a certain amount of sense, forming an alliance. It was possible that Kariya and Avenger were the weakest pair of the Seven Masters and Servants; Avenger had a few C-Rank stats, and Mana and Luck were A-Rank, plus some high ranked personal skills.

But if Avenger fought all out against a Servant, then even Luck wouldn't save Avenger. Against a Servant like Saber, or maybe even Lancer or Archer, he could lose. It would be quite a fight, but he would lose.

"I guess I understand better now." Kariya relented to his Servant's point. "Thanks for clearing that up, Avenger. But, I won't let an alliance take away Sakura's salvation; nothing will stand in my way of saving her."

"No problem Master." Avenger smiled kindly, before he got up. At Kariya's dumbfounded look, Avenger explained. "If you don't mind Master, I'm going to go scout. It's still early enough that I stay materialized as long as I don't draw attention."

Kariya was puzzled; why would Avenger want to scout Fuyuki? All he would have to do is wait for Kariya's instructions and go and fight the other Servants. Kariya admitted that he wasn't really a strategist whereas Avenger clearly was, but he guessed he could count on Avenger's judgement.

"Why do you wanna scout?" Kariya decided to ask anyway, just to get rid of the confusion. "All you have to do is find Servants and fight them, on my orders as long as the battles happen at night."

Avenger smiled sheepishly, and Kariya got the impression that Avenger was more of a silently embarassed person than openly expressing embarassment. "Well, I want to get the lay of the land. The more I know about Fuyuki's layout, the more I'll be able to use the geography to my advantage, right?"

That made sense as well, Kariya admitted. Just as Avenger was going to jump out into the night, Kariya decided to ask him one question that had been bothering him for a while, ever since summoning Avenger. "Wait, Avenger. I have a question."

The Servant paused at the single open window, and he looked back at Kariya with one eye. "What is it, Master?"

Kariya swallowed the lump that had appeared somehow in his throat, before he posed his question. "What's your wish, Avenger? What do you want when you win the Grail?"

Avenger's thoughts now turned back to the duties he performed as a Counter Guardian; how Alaya had given him special privilege because of his last dying deed which had saved the Earth and all the billions of people that inhabited it. He remembered the screaming faces, the cries of the dying and the mutilated corpses staring at him.

He remembered nearly breaking several times, nearly succumbing to the same madness that had taken Archer. But everytime he nearly did so, like words of fire, his resolve tightened and his determination kept on reaffirming itself. He knew he couldn't break, not so long as he protected those he had taken the contract for; to be there for them even if he wasn't alive anymore.

_**Even though I have felt great pain to create my weapons, **_

_**I do not regret it. I do not regret the path I have chosen. **_

He couldn't regret it. Because if he did, they would become sad. Because if he regretted he would follow Archer's twisted path to the end of wanting to erase himself from existence. And if he did so, then they would never have known him. It was selfish, but also selfless.

Without hesitation, he answered Kariya's question. "I guess I'm a lot like you, Master. I don't have a real wish; when I became a Heroic Spirit, I got my wish. But I'll help you win, Master, and I'll help you save that girl. I suppose that...we both can't allow our loved ones to feel pain, can we?"

With that, Avenger leapt out of the window and into the night, leaving his slow-healing Master confused, but also making Kariya think about Avenger's parting words.

What had he meant when he had said 'he already got his wish'?

* * *

><p>The next evening, inside the Fuyuki Hyatt Hotel, Lancer who was also known as Diarmuid of the Love Spot, stood to attention. His dark hair with the curl whipped around with practised motions, and his orange coloured eyes narrowed as he used his senses to probe the atmosphere of Fuyuki.<p>

He had been dutifully waiting for orders from his new lord, Kayneth Archibald El-Melloi, who had summoned him. He had been summoned in the land that was so close to his native Ireland, and yet so far. Even as he pledged himself to his new lord, he had ached to see his old homeland just one more time before fighting to win the Holy Grail.

He was glad, though. Now he had a chance to redeem himself to his lord, as he hadn't been able to in life. Maybe now he could atone for his past actions. Maybe now he could finally fight for his lord without betraying him or his own honour. Though, these thoughts took a back seat for now.

Lancer had been standing to attention waiting for orders, but now that he had sensed a Servant, he brought it to his lord's attention. He knelt in front of Kayneth, who didn't even give him the grace of looking at him. Lancer did not begrudge him this; he deserved to be ignored by his lord for his own sins in life.

"Master, I have sensed the presence of another Servant in the city." Lancer reported, and Kayneth stopped reading whatever type of journal or writings he had been pouring over.

"I see, Lancer." Kayneth said without emotion, and as he got up, Lancer did so as well, moving to his side. Kayneth had a smirk on his face. "Let us see if this other Servant is a dog waiting to be put down. I'll also see if you are indeed a useful replacement, Lancer; I will not tolerate failure."

The red-haired woman that was the fiancee of Kayneth, Sola-Ui, made a derisive sound in her throat. "You know, Kayneth, you should treat a Servant with more respect, given that he's going to fight for you. It's a bit ungrateful, don't you think?"

Lancer had, when he had met her, greatly feared her falling for him because of his own Mystic Face curse. It was also a rather uncomfortable situation; it reminded him far too much of the situation he had been in the middle of when he was alive. It almost hurt to remember her and her bravery, and his own betrayal of his former lord.

Regardless, even if Sola-Ui spoke the truth, she had no right to lecture his Master on his personality or how Lancer was to be used.

"It does not matter, lady Sola, whether or not my Master appreciates me." Lancer lectured her, even as her face turned kinder towards him. How tragic, and how very ironic. "It is his decision how he deems I fight for him, and I will follow his orders to the letter. On my word as a Knight."

Lancer did his best to ignore her ensorcelled face, and tried to focus on his lord. Kayneth was giving him an ugly look, and Lancer's face had the sketchings of shame written into his forehead and face. Though Kanyeth did not see it, unfortunately.

"Oh, I'm sorry Lancer." Sola-Ui apologized under the influence of the Mystic Face. "I was only concerned about you, after all. If you're going to win, you need to be in prime condition."

Lancer smiled good-naturedly. "It's quite alright, lady Sola. I appreciate your concern, but as I said before; it is my Master who decides who I fight and what orders to follow. I have no say in the matter."

That was how their dynamic was going to be, Lancer hoped. He would follow orders while Kayneth would give them. He just hoped that they would win the Grail without any complications that would arise. However, Lancer himself knew that something would eventually happen, with his Mystic Face. It would tear apart the team of him and Kayeth, if it was even a team in the first place.

However, now wasn't the time to dwell on such thoughts. He had to fight. Now. He would defeat this Servant, and he would make his Master proud. Even if he received no acknowledgement, Lancer was happy to win the Grail for his lord. Nothing would deter him from doing this. Nothing.

Lancer turned to his Master, and decided to ask for his permission. "Master, may I make a suggestion to extend a challenge to this Servant? It would be dishonourable to do otherwise."

For a moment, Kayneth wanted to berate the Servant who was clearly trying to steal Sola-Ui from him, underneath that cheap facade of a smiling fae and demeanour. Oh, Kayneth would have felt great joy to force a Command Seal on Lancer, to make him do his bidding, but even Kayneth knew that Lancer would follow every command he gave him regardless.

And if Lancer couldn't, if an order went against his so-called chivalry, then Kanyeth would use a Command Seal to make this foreign dog his mutt. Kayneth would take _some _modicum of pleasure in doing that. But he also understood Lancer's mindset, as loathe as he was to admit it. Lancer's own code followed the same sort of arrangements in duels between magi; attack head on.

Kayneth didn't respect that rule per se, but he understood its significance. It separated the true magus from the damn rabble that often populated the rest of the Clock Tower. Especially that Waver boy. He better not find Waver, because Kayneth would take inordinate pleasure in ridding him from the world. After some good, old-fashioned torture of course.

Kayneth had always been curious to try out the medieval Rack device on someone.

"Very well, Lancer. Do not make me regret this decision. Eliminate this Servant however you see fit, but obey my commands, Servant." Kayneth said harshly, and Lancer bowed his head in respect; Kayneth knew it was just a facade, though. No-one could be so _nice _he decided.

"I will not disappoint you, my lord." Lancer swore, bowing even further down in respect to his new lord. "I will not fail you; I will defeat this Servant for you."

"You better not fail, then Lancer." Kayneth said after a moment, not even looking his Servant in the eye as they proceeded out of the Fuyuki Hyatt, Lancer being in astral form. "I will not tolerate mistakes."

* * *

><p>They proceeded to the place where the Servant would be nearest; the docks of Fuyuki. Lancer appreciated the large, open area that would allow him to use his lances to their greatest extent. He would have preferred Moralltach and Beagalltach, but as a Lancer, he had his Gae Dearg and Gae Buidhe. He would have to make use of their considerable strengths and try to offset their weaknesses.<p>

As a Lancer, he was agile, so he could expect to avoid several blows from the enemy. His Gae Dearg would be exceptionally powerful against a Caster, due to cancelling magic and destroying it-any spells he would be able to 'cut' through. However, he was at a significant disadvantage against some of the other Classes; he was confident that he could defeat Assassin, but the other two Knight Classes and Rider were to be feared, or at least taken into consideration.

Lancer knew he could press Saber, and possibly win; swords were shorter than his red spear, and because of his two-spear style he could probably out maneuvere Saber. He was, though, also aware of his own E-Rank Luck, which meant he had to prepare for the worst. If Saber had a Noble Phantasm that could destroy a significant portion of the area, Lancer would probably not be able to win without a significant advantage.

It was the same problem if he faced Archer. The Servant of the Bow would probably be able to overwhelm him from a distance; Lancer's one disadvantage was that he was suited to close combat, not the ranged variant. This would mean he'd have to act incredibly fast before Archer could get a hit on him; even then, Lancer wasn't sure he'd be able to avoid Archer for long enough to get close and unleash Gae Buidhe.

Riders tended to go for hit-and-run tactics, which while Lancer was disgusted by such tactics, he knew that they were effective. It really depended on WHAT Heroic Spirit the Rider of this War would be. If it was one that used slow but powerful mounts then he'd be able to fight back rather well. That was also the case if the river in Fuyuki was needed for this Rider to summon his Noble Phantasm. But if this War's Rider was land-based, but also incredibly fast, Lancer would need to be as quick as possible.

Anyway, those methods were pointless until Lancer was able to see which Class the opposing Servant was a part of. He had taken a place in the middle of a large stretch of concrete, walled with the containers that the ships used to transport cargo. Lancer, despite his eagerness to please his Master, was genuinely impressed with how far humanity had come since his time.

There were also strategic purposes for his current position; since this area was walled on two sides, he had room to move, but if he faced an Archer he could also get efficient cover if he needed it. The same with a Saber, if possible. Maybe not Rider, but Lancer would first need to see what 'type' the Rider was. Thanks to his Eye of the Mind skill, which was the True variant, he had been able to analyze all the above Classes and the possible ways he could deal with them.

His greatest weapon was by far the two spears he held; their sealed forms would force his opponents to try and decide which was his Noble Phantasm, but thankfully he was not limited to one-they were both his Noble Phantasms. Granted, that strategy would work best against a Saber, but the others could fall for his tactics as well. Even though he disliked deceiving opponents, his Master had made it very clear he had to follow his orders, even if they were less than satisfactory to Lancer's own personal code.

Speaking of which, his Master was perched on one of the large buildings beyond the container walls, beside the crane. His Master had explained that this was so he could not only have a vantage point, but also to hide himself from his opponents, and thus could observe them without being interrupted. Though Lancer also understood the sense in this, it left a bad taste in his mouth; his Master's actions and orders went against his own code of true one-on-one combat as well as not wanting to hide anything from his opponents.

But, Lancer had sworn himself to Kayneth. So he would obey, even if his Master's actions and beliefs were alien to his own.

Lancer could sense the Servant getting closer, and primed himself, ready to fight. The Master and Servant were not what he expected at all; he hid his surprise under a pleasant smile and a pleasant look. The Servant was somewhat shorter than the Master, and a girl of about fifteen to seventeen years of age; Lancer privately mourned this fact, as it meant that she would possibly fall under his Mystic Face. If not her, then her Master would instead.

She was dressed in a black suit, with gloves, and her blonde hair tied down in a low ponytail. Her green eyes took in Lancer's posture, readying herself to fight. Lancer immediately knew that suit wasn't her natural 'state'; he decided it must just be civilian clothes to blend in with the times. Her Master, however, was something of an exotic beauty.

Long white hair, and dressed in a heavy white coat and some kind of tall hat the same colour, she was pale but had the most alarming shade of red for eyes. Of course, Lancer couldn't complain as he had orange eyes, nor would he want to; it would intrude on the lady's honour to do so. But even though Lancer held no interest for that woman, he could certainly see that underneath that coat she had a buxom figure, which lesser men than him would probably drool over.

"So, you accepted my invitation, Servant?" Lancer called out, with a genial smile on his face. The fight itself was imminent; it was all on the enemy Servant's side. "As you can probably see, I am Lancer. May I inquire as to your Class?"

The Servant strode forward, and Lancer was glad to see that neither her nor her Master were falling under the unfortunate spell of his Mystic Face. That was good; that meant Lancer had an opponent to fight, even if she was a girl. The Servant said nothing, even as wind wrapped around her frame, before whipping away and displaying her armor.

She now wore a blue battle-dress, with a chestpiece and gauntlets, plus arm armor that went half-way up her forearms. There was also an armored skirt going around her legs, and she clearly wore greaves as well. Problematic, Lancer decided; the armor might not be magical and thus Gae Dearg would be useless, and if the armor was either magical or not Gae Buidhe would have trouble. He doubted that the armor WASN'T magical, if only for his fine-tuned senses feeling that the wind 'pressed' onto her body instead of simply 'covering' it as she summoned her armor.

And if it wasn't magical, even Lancer's spears could possibly do much more damage if he didn't unseal them. Even against normal armor, Gae Dearg and Gae Buidhe could bruise the metal even if they couldn't pierce it. Though Lancer was loathe to resort to hand-to-hand combat, he would if his Master ordered him to.

Lancer realized she would probably be his strongest opponent in this War; it would be troublesome, but Lancer could probably take Berserker, if he was fast enough or Berserker too committed to madness to think of strategies to use with the great strength the Mad Serants normally had as a pre-requiset for being Berserkers.

Many of his strategies were in need of revising, however, as he could see her take up a sword sheathed in wind. He bit back a curse; since the blade was hidden from him, he wouldn't be able to press an advantage; he would only be able to do that if he unleashed Gae Dearg's magic-cancelling powers. Still, his Master had ordered him not to reveal his Noble Phantasms unless he ordered him to, so Lancer would have to be content with being a little more defensive than he was accustomed to being.

That was most likely the intention; to hide the length of her blade so that he would be forced on the defensive, and to hide her identity. Thus, her sword was recognisable enough that even seeing it would reveal her own identity. That gave Lancer joy of sorts; it meant he was going up against someone who was most likely more famous than him.

"I am the Servant Saber, Lancer." The newly dubbed Saber held up her invisible sword even higher, showing Lancer that she had clearly been a knight when she had been alive. "And now, I am going to kill you."

"I look forward to it Saber." Lancer exchanged pleasantaries, as he got into his combat stance. Saber did likewise as well. "Let this battle announce the beginning of this Holy Grail War."

Saber seemed to be analyzing his own stance, as well as his two weapons. Good, he had ambiguity to his credit; that would mean she wouldn't be able tof ight as effectively either. Still, she was still better off than him when it came to it. An invisible sword would do that. But, she was looking at his face, before tensing as did her Master.

"You have a charm spell on your face, don't you?" Saber's question cut through the night, and Lancer found himself smiling as he slightly relaxed his posture. Thankfully, she wasn't affected by it, if at all.

"My apologies, but I don't have it by choice," Lancer said, struggling to stomach the memories of exactly HOW he had gotten this thrice-damned spot on his face. "It seems that the Saber class' magic resistance is exceptionally high; perhaps we can have a good battle after all. I really would prefer not harming women throwing themselves at me."

That was very much the truth; one rule that Lancer had always abided by was that he would never strike down those who were unarmed, even if they were going to kill so many. He had been called out on it more than once, but he always stood by his ideals and his honour.

"I may agree with you, Lancer." Saber said, a playful smile on her face. "However, that does not change the fact that you will die here tonight."

"I find myself disagreeing, Saber." Lancer said jovially again, poising himself to deflect any attempts at her to strike at him. "I cannot be defeated, for if I do I disobey my Master. So Saber. How confident are you that your invisible sword will defeat my spears? Shall we talk more or begin this duel?"

There was a long silence, and Lancer felt himself lose some confidence. She was clearly experienced, waiting for him to make the move. But, Lancer wouldn't. And soon, his Master would make him fight despite his stance on that. Truly, it was a sadistic choice. Luckily, Saber made it for him.

In less than a second the Servant of the Sword had ran at him; Lancer twirled around his spears before bringing them to bear. She swung her sword at him, and he batted it away with Gae Dearg, carving up asphault. Barely a second later, she leaned back to avoid his red spear so he stabbed at her head with Gae Buidhe. Naturally she dodged that one as well.

She continued to press him, forcing him to block with both of his spears while deflecting others. By now, it was clear to Lancer she was acting somewhat on Instinct; it allowed her to dodge blows without thinking about it. Lancer's mind whirled as his spears did so as well; perhaps there was a way to take advantage of this?

The problem with Instinct is that it could indeed be tricked. Unlike Eye of the Mind True, if he discarded one spear she would focus on the one he wielded instead of the one he had let go off. Lancer was already thinking of a possible strategy to deal with her, before she went for an overhead slash downwards.

Normally, if he had known the blade's length he could use Gae Dearg to bat it away, but since the blade was invisible, he crossed both spears over his head, trapping the sword for at least a moment. Saber's face was alarmed at his skill, but Lancer WAS the Servant of the Spear for a very good reason.

The battle was in earnest now; they clashed several times after disengaging from that struggle. Lancer slashed with Gae Buidhe, and Saber blocked. He tried Gae Dearg, but nevertheless she continued to dodge each and every one of his strikes, even barely. He himself had sustained some slight cuts that his Master was healing; truly, the Saber class was formidable in close range combat.

He stabbed at her head with his red spear after a particularly vicious volley of clashes, but she dodged to the left and Gae Dearg impaled one of the containers that he had backed her up against. She retreated, bearing her sword as she took a moment to regain some vitality.

Lancer smiled; this was truly an epic battle. To think that his first fight would result in such a clash between two Servants. Unlike many of his fellow Irish warriors, he had never really felt blood-lust, but Lancer would deny himself if he said that his blood didn't race with adreneline, or that he felt himself craving the next clash between their weapons.

However, he could see her watching both his weapons simultaneously. He smiled; this was good. It meant he had her on edge, and was possibly one of the reasons he had survived for this amount of time, along with her having an invisible blade which forced him not to press any advantages in case he got skewered like a pig.

She then dashed at him again, and he batted her sword away with his short spear. He then extended Gae Dearg, and swiped at her feet in order to disorient her. Unfortunately, or fortunately, Saber saw the blow coming and dodged backwards, letting Gae Dearg carve up a deep scar on the concrete they stood on.

He was impressed even more, now, as he balanced Gae Dearg on his shoulder; enough to be relaxed but positioned there so that he could react in time if she attacked him. He could see that she was getting worried now; the Saber class was known for its destructive abilities, so he could understand why she was getting worried; it was a problem when facing an opponent who dual-wieled weapons-they could use either with proficiency, and if they adopted a suitable style they could offset any advantages their opponents held.

"Are you having some trouble Saber?" Lancer asked, and Saber turned her attention to him, distracted for a moment. "My spears must be giving you some trouble, since you're on the defensive now. But I must say, it is an honour to fight such a swordsmaster as you. I will make your death swift, and honourable."

"I thank you for your concern, Lancer. But that does not change the fact we are fighting to the death." Saber replied, nobility colouring her tone; respectful, yet cold. Lancer briefly wondered what made her so unhuman in the first place. "Nevertheless, I give you credit. You are indeed one of the greatest opponents I have faced thus far."

Saber then seemed to come to a decision and raised her sword again. Lancer readied himself, before using a combination of his spears to keep her on the defensive. However, in a rare blind moment for Lancer, when he stabbed at her with Gae Dearg, she didn't dodge. She shifted to her right, and ran her blade _across _the sealed spear. It was only Lancer's instincts that saved his head being cut in two, and when he forced her away they leapt back, analyzing each other.

He felt blood ooze from a thin cut to his face, and he absentmindedly thumbed it away, thinking of a strategy. He found himself cursing her invisible blade again, and knew once more that he truly couldn't strike unless he knew the exact length. Of course, Gae Dearg would help with that, but he needed his Master's orders to do so first. To do otherwise would challenge his Master's authority.

They struck against each other several more times; Lancer sustained more cuts that were healed with ease by his Master. He could sense his Master becoming impatient, but Lancer had said he would follow any commands he was given; even if a Command Seal was used, he would offer no resistance as he had no choice.

More concrete was carved up by their duel, and eventually, more containers began to fall from the damage sustained by them. Even when Lancer was very nearly beheaded or split down the middle, he was able to use his agility to stop himself getting too injured. The problem was definitely the invisible sword now, and Lancer knew that if he wanted to defeat Saber, then he would have to use Gae Dearg's true powers.

"It's rather unfortunate, that as knights we cannot exchange names properly, as was customary in my time." Lancer wondered out loud, and Saber blinked and relaxed slightly. He had no intention of attacking her right now, and he was just musing. "It is not honourable, is it?"

"I suppose not, Lancer." Saber said, a smile on her face now. It was a good and kind smile; one that Lancer remembered had been on _her _face too. "However, you do me great honour by fighting me; your skills and repute are deserved. I am honoured to fight an opponent such as you."

"Indeed, that is likewise with me Saber." Lancer complimented, aware that any moment now his Master would order him to continue the fight. "I have seldom been injured like this by a singular opponent, even if they are healed courtesy of my Master. I commend you, Saber; you have truly earned your place as one of the great swordsmasters in the history of the world, and in the Throne of Heroes."

Yes, Lancer was touched and honoured to face such an honourable opponent; Saber had never tried any underhanded tactics, she had been upfront and aiming to slay him with the best of her abilities. Lancer only regretted that he had to rely on tricks in order to win; if he had his two swords with him, that would not be needed, possibly.

It left a bitter taste in his mouth, that Saber was being done a slight by him and his Master, but Lancer did not hold Kayneth to fault; it was logical since Lancer had two Noble Phantasms, but there was no more time for this pondering. He would like to think he had redeemed his honour so far, by fighting such an opponent. If he won, his honour would be restored somewhat. If he gained the approval of his Master in the process, then this encounter could be discredited as mere foreplay to the rest of the Holy Grail War.

"_Lancer, that is enough playing around; finish Saber before she has a chance to use her Noble Phantasm. Unleash your own, and end this battle." _

His Master's voice cut through the din, and though Saber's Master was looking for Kayneth, Lancer knew that she wouldn't be able to find him. Kayneth had cast a barrier over him, keeping him from being seen by those in Lancer's area. And his voice echoed so that even hearing was being deceived. It was not exactly honourable, but Lancer had no desire to point this out.

"My apologies for taking so long, my Master." Lancer said, and ditched Gae Buidhe at his feet. "I obey your command; I will now end this fight."

He could see that Saber was now focused on Gae Dearg; this tied in with the strategy that he would deceive her and once there was an opening, use Gae Buidhe. This would come about if his theory about her armor was correct. Well, there was only one way to test that theory.

The purple cloth binding Gae Dearg dissipated into purple mist, and the talisman that dangled near Gae Dearg's tip burst apart in crimson light; in a moment, the purple, inverted mist reached the tip of the red spear. There was a pulse of mana as Gae Dearg fully awakened, and Lancer bore it in a more comfortable stance.

"You heard my Master's order, Saber." Lancer said, semi-apologizing for what was to come. "It is regrettable that this duel must be cut short, but I will now take your life."

Saber said nothing, but she had visibly relaxed as she focused on Gae Dearg. Lancer allowed a smile to come onto his face, before he bore Gae Dearg's tip, ready to pounce at the Servant of the Sword. But if his suspicions were correct, he would have to make sure they were correct.

"Tell me Saber," Lancer called out to the blonde-haired swordswoman, letting Gae Dearg's tip scratch the earth and cause sparks to shine as he dragged it. "Have you concealed your blade with wind-type mana? If so, that means that you have a good reason for it; your true name must be tied to that sword."

"Possibly, but I will allow you no chance to uncover my blade, Lancer." Saber declared, holding her blade in a stance befitting a knight. "You will die before I unleash my sword's true form; I am certain of that."

"Well, then Saber, let us test that theory of yours shall we?" Lancer asked rheutorically, and twirled Gae Dearg back into both hands, ready to bear it at Saber. She tensed, and Lancer smiled as he dashed forward, clashing her invisible sword with his spear.

Almost immediately golden sparks and wind went up in gales; he could see her surprise as her sword was revealed bit by bit, before they managed to disengage. However, even though Lancer had only seen up to the crossguard of her blade, he knew it was beautiful, an exception amongst swords.

"Your blade is becoming exposed to me, Saber." Lancer called out, and he could see Saber's disbelief, and how she was wondering just how he had managed to expose her blade, even partially. "I may not know the exact length as of now, but rest assured I will uncover any secrets it holds.

He gave her no time to respond, and he leapt forward with Gae Dearg again. And again the the gale and golden motes of light were released. She retreated her again, but like a hunting hound Lancer sped after her. Stabbing at her with Gae Dearg and clashing with her invisible sword repeatedly and in rapid succession. Each time the previous phenomenon was released, until they once more clashed for more than a few moments, and Lancer saw the true length of her blade.

"Your blade has been revealed to me; now that I know it's exact length, I can properly attack now. It is unfortunate Saber, but it would be best if you discarded that sheathe of wind. I have an estimate of your identity as well, and many of my suspicions are correct." Lancer said to the Servant of the Sword.

He had been correct when he had guessed that her blade's true shape and form were tied into her identity, and thus it had to be concealed to stop anyone from seeing who she was from a glance. The blade itself had been splendid, with blue and gold. The blade had shined in the light.

Excalibur, the Sword of Promised Victory and the most well-known blade of King Arthur, former king of the Britons and leader of the Round Table. Even though her true gender had thrown him off initially, as well as the fact that she had been the king of his country's enemy, he felt his blood quicken and the blood-thirst begin to settle in again. He would not have been a half-bad Berserker.

To fight such an opponent, whose standing in the history of this world vastly out-ranked his own. It was just what he had wanted; to face an opponent greater than himself so that he could prove his combat skills to his Master. He mourned the fact that the other Servants would not measure up to her, but it was fate, the most fickle of madams.

He poised Gae Dearg to strike again, and with another smile on his face that would have fit perfectly on Cu Chuliann, the Hound of Ulster, he sprung forward, driving Gae Dearg towards her heart.

* * *

><p><strong>Well, here is the next chapter of Avenger of Swords! I apologize for being late but I originally worked on this being a single chapter; I had over 20000 words and I've seen fit to split it in half. Thus, we see Avenger do his best to heal Kariya, and Lancer's perspective on the first half of his fight with Saber.<strong>

**I will say this right now; I consider myself Irish, and I hope to give Lancer a bit of character development as well as a happy ending, compared to canon. To the internet, I say; FUCK 'being Lancer is suffering'! I'm gonna definitely avert that. Also, if anyone wants to make a TvTropes page for this story once they think it's good enough, then be my guest. **

**Next chapter, we continue the battle at the docks, and I will say this; Avenger Vs Gilgamesh. Get ready to throw down. Anyone want to place bets? **


	4. Chapter 3: Battle at the Docks Part II

**Chapter 3: Battle at the Docks Part II**

* * *

><p>Avenger had been quickly drawn to Lancer's challenge as Saber evidently had. Though, he had never really seen the point in engaging right away; he wanted to get a degree or estimate just how powerful the two Servants were. That was perhaps EMIYA's memories and experienced bleeding over to him again.<p>

Even now, Avenger would not snipe or use sneak attacks; even though he had changed somewhat from his days as 'Shirou', and that Archer's arm had steadily giving him more experience and power, he refused to do that. For some reason, he had stopped moving when he had seen Saber, as if some part of him had seen her somewhere before. It was possible; as a Counter Guardian/Heroic Spirit, he could have met her in life, but that could also be wrong.

His memories were still fragmented, but some were 'congealing' in a sense, becoming more coherent. Suddenly, a spasm ran through his left arm, as if it wanted him to know something. However, Avenger ignored the random spasm; it did that sometimes, and most of the time it caused him nothing but trouble and distracting him.

Before coming here, he had been at Kariya's side, getting him food and nourishment; he had even put his cooking skills to use. Kariya had complemented them, though Avenger was sure he could have done better if he had had a proper kitchen and ingredients. He hadn't lost that particular attribute of Shirou; a cook of the greatest calibur, who often stubbornly refused help to create dishes that made even a noble like her speechless.

He frowned; where had that stray thought come from? He couldn't remember giving a noble some of the dishes he cooked, but at the same time it was as if he _knew _that that opinion was _wrong. _His memories were still somewhat disorganised, but that hardly mattered at the moment.

What did was that he came across Assassin.

He had been skulking around the crane to get a vantage point, when he had seen the Servant of the Shadows, obscured in a black cloak and wearing the traditional skull mask, along with an unusual hair style and colour. He had almost cursed, before anger was driven through him; for some reason, he had wanted to end Assassin right then and there, as if he was being compelled by something.

What had stopped him from using Kanshou had been the fact that due to Assassin being here, and one having been killed by Archer, he decided it must be a Noble Phantasm of sorts; cloning or duplication perhaps? But through the knowledge afforded to him by the Throne of Heroes, Hassan-i-Sabbah had been not one person but many. Thus, it was possible there were dozens of Assassins ready to kill him.

He retreated to a distance close to Assassin, where he could watch the battle and keep an eye on that Servant. He immediately contacted Kariya through their spirit link; the news was incredibly urgent.

"Master, I've spotted another Servant at the docks." Avenger reported. "It's not Saber or Lancer; it's Assassin."

Kariya had taken a moment to swallow that information before reacting as Avenger thought he would. _"What? How did Assassin survive? I thought that Archer left him a bloody corpse on the ground."_

Kariya had then laughed, before continuing to Avenger's concern. _"Hah! Tokiomi you proud bastard. Even your Servant is bad at killing. The irony!"_

"Master, given that this is an Assassin that looks different than the one killed by Archer," Avenger brought the discussion back to the topic. "It might be a Noble Phantasm; one that allows duplicates or clones to survive. And there's only one Heroic Spirit that uses skull masks and has black skin. Hassan-i-Sabbah, the man of the mountain."

"_Ugh...that's bad, Avenger. Is there any way to take him out?" _Kariya asked, and despite Kariya not being able to see his physical body, Avenger shook his head.

"It'd be easy for me to eliminate _this _Assassin, but I don't know how many there are if I'm right about his Noble Phantasm." Avenger replied, and he got the feeling that Kariya had just leaned against a wall. "Saber and Lancer are fighting, so just look through my eyes."

"_Right."_

Avenger watched the battle in earnest now, before his attention was being diverted, somehow to a man that was some distance from Assassin. He looked at him; he wore a black duster, and had unruly hair. He was also using what the Archer Arm informed him was a Walther WA2000 sniper rifle, which was outfitted with night vision scope and another scope.

"Do you see him, Master?" Avenger asked his Master, and had to admit the mysterious man had chosen a good spot; he could observe the battle field and the crane. But his attention was elsewhere; where was that man looking?

"_Yeah. It's strange...this guy has to be involved in the Grail War." _Kariya coughed, but reassured Avenger. _"Sorry. Because of that treatment, the Crest Worms are agitated. It'll fix itself."_

"Yeah...Caduceus was known as the greatest staff of healing for a reason." Avenger commented. "Do you want me to kill him?"

The idea of killing this man did not appeal to Avenger; for some reason, his left hand clenched into a fist, as if angry, but the rest of his body reacted as if it was a great happiness and boon to see this man. Even if he did bear weapons that befitted an assassin rather than a magus.

Then, as with the memories of that Sakura girl, static filled his vision, and with a groan he fell down on one knee, placing one hand on the metal underneath to steady himself and put the other on his head, as if trying to stop the sudden throbbing and pain.

_Bright moon-_

_Old man, blind-_

_A content smile-_

"_I want to be a hero!"_

"_It's like this, Shirou. A hero can't save everyone; he can only save the people he sided with. I just wish I had learned that sooner..."_

Avenger, with some difficulty, managed to get himself out of that vision, of the fact he had seen a man that looked just like this assassin talking to his younger self, discussing heroism. Avenger never usually was angry, or hated people without justification, but these flashes were getting very annoying.

He ignored the assassin for a moment, and took point at where he had been before. He decided to look at where the man had aimed his sniper rifle, as he knew Kariya was deliberating about what to do with this irregular to the Holy Grail War.

"_Don't do anything for a while, Avenger." _Kariya's voice told him, instructions crystal clear. _"Just focus on the fight between Saber and Lancer."_

"Okay." Avenger replied, before using his Clairvoyance skill to enhance his eyesight. In practice, it was much like Reinforcing the eyes, but it had several contrasts. Clairvoyance was automatically activated whenever the user focused on something. Reinforcement heated up the Circuits and thus left them at the mercy of their opponents, if they had a measure of pragmatism.

Reinforcement was slightly more efficient, but Avenger didn't want to alert others to his presence just yet. Avenger focused on where the man had been looking, and widened his own eyes as he saw a man framed in shadow, standing proud and haughty above the battle. From there, he could be seen if he wanted to but remain concealed.

"Can you see that guy?" Avenger asked his Master, who had similarly gone quiet. "The one on the roof of that building?"

It was obvious that that man was the Master of Lancer. That made sense; the assassin must work with one of the other Masters for the demise of their competition. It left a bad taste in his mouth; wasn't the point of the Holy Grail War meant to be Servants versus Servants? Avenger wasn't stupid enough to be completely naïve; the Masters would fight if they were confident in their abilities, but still.

"_I can see him. That's clearly Lancer's Master. Huh...our chances of winning get slimmer every second, don't they Avenger?"_

Kariya sounded tired, and gave a short laugh. Avenger frowned, before smiling even though his Master couldn't see it. "Maybe you're right, but...I can manage to take out a few Servants before I die. And I promised you, didn't I?" Avenger reminded Kariya of how he was going to help him win, and the man was once again touched by the trust that Avenger gave him.

"Besides, that guy's being stupid. Any sniper would be able to spot him; it doesn't make logical sense. He should have concealed himself with a spell..." Avenger's train of thought carried on, before EMIYA's memories told him that this was common amongst the magi.

"_Most magi are so damn proud most of the time that they'll do things that don't make sense to people who think with logic." _Kariya explained, and elaborated on how he knew this. _"Let's just say that it was another of my father's 'gifts of knowledge' when I was growing up."_

Avenger gave a vocal admittance that he understood, and turned his attention back to the battle. He had arrived before Assassin, and had seen Lancer's own power measured against Saber's. While it was true that Saber was the 'best' Class, Lancer had managed to put her on the defensive by using his red spear.

"A spear that negates magic..." Avenger muttered, unconsciously recording that red spear and sending it to the hill that was ablaze inside his mind. "That could be a lot of trouble..."

The fact that Lancer had been able to make Saber's invisible sheath dissipate for several seconds but long enough Lancer had got a measure of its length disturbed Avenger, to an extent though he didn't know why. Practically, it meant that Lancer had the advantage; Saber was more useful in close combat, not mid range. Even now, Lancer was deflecting her blows with prowess as well as sustaining far less cuts than before.

Eventually, he saw them run at each other like in a joust, and if Avenger's suspicions were correct then Lancer's spear would...there! Against Saber's plans the spear had cut right through her armor, confirming that the metal had been magical in origin. This also meant that Avenger knew it could cut through anything that had been created by magic. He gave a look at his left arm; shortly before, he had ripped off the left sleeve of his jacket, exposing his left arm that was wrapped in the Shroud of Martin.

"If Lancer can cut through this..." Avenger said, now worried. If Lancer could indeed sever the Shroud, then that would mean a lot of pain for him. "He'd be helping me, but in the end I'd be..."

Avenger remembered the sensation of blades piercing every single part of his body, before taking over his left side nearly completely. He remembered the static as he struggled on, and he remembered that last magnificent blow he had struck at a foe who dwindled the Servants and many of the Heroic Spirits.

His fear of releasing the Shroud really came down to the fact _he didn't know _what would happen. It was possible it would just be a boost to his Tracing, as the man who had transplanted the arm to him had said only someone of equal power and status of EMIYA could use the arm without threats of pain.

He didn't know if he outclassed or if the fact that he was a Counter Guardian or Heroic Spirit mattered; he was not willing to test the logic. In his years of service to Alaya, Avenger had never really had to release the Shroud partially; he'd loosen it, but never release it. Even then, the discomfort it caused was a warning, in his mind.

He saw Saber's Master heal her, before Saber came to the same conclusion Avenger had just a moment ago. In a swift movement, she had discarded her armor, and was clad in just her battle dress. It was modest and covered nearly everything, except the small window just above her breasts.

He watched as her invisible blade was held behind her, and his attention was drawn to Lancer, who hadn't even moved away. Instinctively, he knew Saber would be able to reach Lancer even if he moved to the sides, but there was something about his relaxed posture that made Avenger nervous. He kept edging backwards, towards the spot the two Servants had been several moments ago, when Lancer had unleashed his Noble Phantasm...

It was only when Saber had boosted herself towards Lancer that Avenger understood the spearman's plan. He watched with horror and surprise as he unearthed the spear he had discarded earlier, and Avenger recalled that a Servant could have more than one Noble Phantasm, as was evident from Perseus, who had been Rider in the Second Holy Grail War. He had had five, including a pegasus that had been grey and red-eyed in contrast to...who? Avenger thought he knew who else could use a pegasus as a Noble Phantasm, but the name slipped out of his mind.

Anyway, that golden spear made it so that Saber couldn't be healed; her Master declared as such. It was then that Avenger looked closer at Lancer. Green celtic-style armor, two spears; one red and one gold. One that cancelled magic and one that caused wounds that never healed. On top of that, he had that spot that was the source of a Mystic Face.

There was only one Hero from Ireland that it could be.

"Diarmuid Ua Duibhne, of the Love Spot." Avenger recited from the encyclopedic knowledge granted to him from the Throne of Heroes. "That's bad...with Gae Dearg and Gae Buidhe, he could cause a lot of problems down the road..."

Diarmuid had been famous for his love-spot, which he had been 'bestowed' when he had fallen for a young girl despite himself, and had been given a love spot on his cheek as a gift of sorts from her. The gift itself caused Diarmuid much strife; it ripped apart his honour to serve his lord, and he had inadvertantly stole his lord's bride. He had died, but not before his tale had later inspired the more dramatic versions of Lancelot and Guinevere's romance.

He now saw how Lancer's plan had worked. By discarding his short spear, he had tricked Saber into thinking that the long one was his sole Noble Phantasm. Since it had a useful ability, and that she had been tricked, he had attacked her knowing her blade would be revealed and that he could cut her armor. By doing that, the next logical step would be for her to attack him quickly, and that was why he had backed up a little.

When Lancer had reacted, and when Saber had jetted at him, Lancer had already been in place for the majority of his plan to be used without any reservation. He had wounded Saber, effectively halfing her strength and preventing her from using her Noble Phantasm. What struck Avenger was how she hadn't expected to see him have two Noble Phantasms; that sheath bore the hallmarks of one, but still...

His left arm pulsed once more, and when his thoughts turned to Lancer, he didn't see Diarmuid. Instead, he saw a blue haired man wearing blue armor and having silver pauldrons, as well as hungry red eyes. Instead of wielding two spears, this illusion had only one; it was red and barbed at the end, but it dripped with bloodlust.

_-Stabbing him-_

_-Pain, death-_

_-A swordswoman-_

_-Invisible sword-_

_-GAE BOLG-_

He breathed out as the apparition disappeared, returning to the Lancer in front of him. His left hand clenched as if it was furious at the apparition. Avenger noted that he would have to investigate or at least try to surpress these annoying visions that he kept having, even if they were his memories. He was practical; he would not win against Servants if this kept happening. Uncharacteristically, Avenger just wanted to have his memories and be done with them-these flashes were getting more irritating as time went by.

He was stunned to see Rider arrive in a divine bolt of lightning nearly a moment later. Evidently, he had been watching the battle from afar as well. But what struck him was just how regal and noble Rider was; tanned skin, red hair and beard, incredibly tall and armored with gold details. And that Noble Phantasm...a chariot driven by oxen.

"Stay your hands Heroes, for you stand in the presence of a true King!" Rider declared loudly, and Avenger was sympathetic to the fact that his Master was practically pissing himself. "I am Iskander, summoned as the Rider of this Holy Grail War! We have been brought together to fight for the Grail, so what say you join me?"

Rider's entrance had stunned everyone, and while they rebuked violently, and they all learned of Saber's identity, Avenger was having a conversation with Kariya. Avenger himself had not moved; the audacity and the larger-than-life way Rider had announced himself was still taking a moment for him to catch.

"Iskander, King of Conquerors...also known as Alexander the Great." Avenger said quietly, trying to focus on this situation and to stop himself from falling to one knee. "Taught by Aristotle, and conquered everything from Greece to Egypt, and even into India. He's a Servant..."

"_This is bad...So many Servants here will cause a lot of trouble." _Kariya cursed inwardly; why did everything have to be so complicated all of a sudden? _"We know their identities, but their stats...most of them have stats higher than yours, Avenger."_

"I know Kariya. Even when I was alive, I was so much weaker than other Heroes." Avenger recalled the feeling of hopelessness, of being powerless to fight and to protect. "But that didn't stop me. So I won't let it do so now. I'll fight these Heroes, and we'll win the Grail. For..."

_-That smile once more-_

"For Sakura."

They were in silence as they heard Lancer's Master threaten Rider's with torture for stealing his relic. Even from up here, Avenger could see that Lancer gripped his spears with disgust at his Master's actions. Of course; Diarmuid had never taken pleasure in that sort of thing, and Avenger liked him for it. In his books, it was the mark of a real hero not to harm children, or wish them harm.

"Ah, but what say the Servants that watch this clash?" Rider asked aloud, and Avenger's chest was suddenly cold, and something sunk to the bottom of his stomach. "You have all been watching and were attracted by this great clash of powers! What say you to my proposition?"

Saber retreated at that, protecting her Master. Avenger understood that she had been caught up fighting Lancer, but still...Masters were MEANT to be hidden, not on display. The pragmatic side of him knew that Servants or enemy Masters who had taken necessary steps could then eliminate the main prana source. But at the same time, he was compassionate; it was clear that Saber cared about her Master enough to shield her. That gave a good indication to her character.

But it was the fact that Rider had sensed him, or at least saw him on his way here that gave Avenger pause. He couldn't hope to stay concealed for long; he could either retreat and live to fight another day or he could wait for the moment. Even now, he heard Kariya's instructions to stay put for now. _He _might show up after all.

Suddenly, in a shower of golden particles, there stood a person on top of a pole. He was wearing elaborate golden armor, with a red cape coming out of the bottom part of that armor. His blond hair was spiked, and his red eyes were contemptuous in their gaze, as if everything before them offended this Servant.

"_Archer...!" _Kariya cursed inside Avenger's mind, and Avenger dimly recalled that all the others thought that Archer had killed Assassin. He himself had been told of Archer's destructive power by Kariya, who had been shivering in fear nonetheless. Even though the Matou had hated Tokiomi, the _power _of that Servant had given his Master some amount of fear...

_-A clash of weapons in the night-_

_-Surprise at the reveal of Rho Aias-_

_-A hill of swords-_

_-"Here I come King of Heroes! Do you have enough swords in stock?"-_

"How dare you call yourselves Kings, mongrels." Archer said with contempt, and Avenger struggled not to recall the impossible sword Archer's arm kept showing him in his mind. "Even in my absolute presence, against myself who is the true King."

"Well, if you are a King as you say, why not tell us of your identity?" Rider asked, extending a hand. "If your claim is true, then there be no problem."

Archer shook in anger, before breaking the electric light that was a part of the pole he was standing on. The light shattered into pieces, and all Servants present, hidden or not, were struck by the feeling of apprehension, or even fear. For it was clear to Avenger, Archer was the strongest Servant in this Holy Grail War.

"You DARE question me, mongrel?" Archer asked, his tone cold and angry, as two golden portals opened beside his shoulders. "Well, if you cannot ascertain my identity in my presence, I shall rid this world of your imputence!"

The two weapons that had appeared out of the portals were beautiful, far more ornate than any weapon Avenger had encountered in life, except for perhaps the Sword of Promised Victory. Though, even now he was using his particular magecraft to analyse them, and came to their identities.

The spear was Gungnir, the legendary Spear of Odin. A spear that could create bolts of divine lightning and spew them at its foes. Alternatively, it was the prototype to Gae Bolg; it could utilize a similar destructive attack to eliminate enemies in a single area. Though it did not resemble Gae Bolg all that much, it was to be expected from its prototype. It could even turn into a fast bullet of lightning, similar to Gae Bolg's other state when thrown and invoked.

The sword was Durandal, or at least a previous version of the sword given to Roland, Charlamagne's greatest champion. It bore a slight resemblence to other swords, but its guard was gold with black, and a diamond shaped from the gold was on both sides of the guard, even slightly on the blade itself. One of its powers was to create an earthquake as did befit the sword Roland had sought to destroy, but had created the La Breche de Roland instead.

They were both recorded to the flaming hill of swords, and Avenger learned their Ranks. Gungnir was an A+-Rank Noble Phantasm, while The Peerless Sword was an A Rank. Given that they were both famous for destructive displays, this was to be expected. But there was a more important issue at hand. Archer was going to use those weapons to kill all down there, for the reason that they were below him and that they displeased him.

Avenger couldn't let that happen. Saber, Lancer, Rider...they all seemed likable, so he couldn't allow them to die like this when it didn't befit their status as warriors. It might be naïve of him, but Avenger felt that they deserved to die the way they wanted; in battle, and hold no regrets. Archer would trample over that; he would eliminate them simply because of his own ego and that they had displeased him in an insignificant way. That wasn't right.

Rider's Master and Saber's...they didn't deserve to die. The boy looked like he was going to wet himself, and while Saber's Master hadn't faltered, he could see in her eyes that she had something to live for, and it would defeat that purpose if she died here. Even if Avenger was ruthless enough to let Saber, Lancer and Rider die, he would save those two. That silver haired woman reminded him of someone he had known in his previous life, though he couldn't recall her name. But that hair and those eyes...

Avenger's resolve hardened; he would not let any of them die, not like this. Maybe he was being a fool, one of the criticisms EMIYA had had of him, but Avenger was absolute. He would stop this. He got up, and aimed his left arm at Archer. He grasped the handle of the bow that did not yet exist.

"Trace On."

EMIYA's Black Bow materialized in his left hand; it was made of materials that didn't exist in the world yet, or had not been discovered. But EMIYA had found it incredibly useful after he had commissioned it for the reward of one of his jobs as a Magus Killer; maybe he had taken it because it reminded him of his youth, of his old habit of archery. It was one of the reasons he had been summoned as 'Archer' after all.

But it was most important because despite being made of materials that shouldn't be capable of doing so, it could fire Noble Phantasms that were modified into arrows. Since Avenger's left arm was formerly that of EMIYA, he had gained the passive knowledge of the process, and how to do it.

It would suit his purpose. He had to stop Archer _now_, but the only sword capable was Caladbolg II, but that had too much destructive power when molded into an arrow; he himself remembered just how devastating that power was. If he used it, it would kill all of the people in the vicinity, such was its range.

Almost immediately, another sword gave itself to his mind, resonating from that blazing hill of swords. It was black, and bore some designs he recalled, but it was just what he needed. It might not have the destructive power of Caladbolg, but it would serve its purpose all the same.

"Trace On."

In his right hand, appeared an arrow that was as black as night, and was known as Hrunting, the sword given to the Hero Beowulf by Unferth and which he had used to slay Grendel's Mother. It was similar to Gae Bolg, in that it oozed blood-lust, and indeed the reason he had chosen it was because when fired at something, even if the target moved it wouldn't stop following until it hit it. The perfect sword to be a projectile.

It was flawed.

Avenger was not as proficient in this as EMIYA had been; but it would be enough. Hrunting would hit Archer, and that would distract him enough that Avenger could fight him. He could feel Kariya's approval as Avenger loaded Hrunting onto the Black Bow's string, and drew it back with practised motions.

He suddenly saw not Archer, but a target that had been mounted on a stand, among a field of grass. There were also illusions of other people around him, and he felt comfort for the first time in many years. A smile graced his face as he remembered his archery club fully now.

He breathed out, before focusing. He remembered one of EMIYA's habits, one that had enhanced the power of his Tracing by several levels. Avenger decided why not, and took aim.

"_Avenger, kill him. Kill Archer." _Kariya ordered, his voice full of mirth at the coming embarassment of Tokiomi. Avenger still found it distasteful, but readied his shot again, focusing on that Servant he had been ordered to kill. Strangely, he did not feel anything at the fact he would be attacking and killing Archer. If anything, Archer's arm seemed slightly joyful.

"I am the bone of my sword."

He let the arrow fly, towards the heart of its target.

* * *

><p>Archer looked down at the Servants who had dared to say that they were Kings. How foolish; he was the only King of this world, and indeed he owned it all. That was his reason for going after the Grail. Despite his skepticism that it was INDEED a wish-granting device-he'd come across several that had been claimed to do the same when he was alive, but they had fallen short. The Grail still belonged to him, Gilgamesh, who had all of the worlds treasures.<p>

They were paralyzed. Archer gave a sadistic smile as he aimed the two Noble Phantasms at them. They were ornate, and he considered them part of the better-tier of treasures he owned, but that was saying little. In life, he had taken only the greatest treasures into the Gate of Babylon; any lesser ones were not even worthy of his acknowledgement.

But those two had annoyed him, and insulted his authority as King. They would be punished, along with the mortals that accompanied them. That snivelling coward in that admittedly-beautiful chariot would die; in life, Archer had not tolerated cowards, as they would leave despite orders given by the highest authority; himself.

That filthy Irish dog would also go. His treasures were obselete compared to the originals in his vault, and even if they had no originals those two spears were already marred with dirt from that dog's filthy hands. He would not tolerate such a dog wielding any treasures. Thus, he and them were garbage.

He had a higher opinion of that blond girl, who had been wounded. Admittedly, Archer had never come across an invisible sword before, so he'd add it to his collection once he plucked it from her dead hands. She herself was also quite desirable, along with that silver haired Master of hers.

His smirk widened; perhaps he would sample them instead of mutilating them? Yes, that would be fitting for beauties that while not as desirable as those of Uruk, they came rather close. Suddenly, a flash of a long-forgotten memory hit him. One where he had first fought against his greatest friend.

He suddenly recalled that his friend had accosted him for the very task he was thinking of taking those two for. It gave him pause; even after so many years, his friend still somehow managed to influence him. But no matter; Archer's right was the right of the truest King. He had the right to take anything for his own.

He was just about to unleash his treasures upon those worthless mongrels when it happened. He heard something screaming through the air behind him, and it seemed that the mongrels were seeing it. In a fluid motion, Archer jumped off of the pole from which he had been glaring at the trash on the ground, before taking position on one of the containers. High enough to re-establish his authority.

"Which of you mongrels dare attack a King?!" Archer demanded, even as he saw the red-black bullet that had been shot at him _curve _around and head straight for him. "When I discover you, I will make sure your corpse will be but blood on the ground!"

He unleashed a spear from the Gate of Babylon, which collided with the bullet, causing an explosion. Archer was not fazed; as a King, he refused to allow himself to descend to such standards. Thus, it gave him some entertainment that the Servants below had been forced to jump back.

However, Archer was now angry. His shoulders shook as he recalled this incident. Fury flowed through his mind; how _dare _someone try to attack him, the King of Heroes, from behind like some kind of coward?! This assailant would undergo the most horrible and painful methods of death, Archer promised.

"I ask again, dirt! Who dares to assault my royal presence?!" Archer demanded of the silent assailant who had not stepped forward. "I will make sure that there is no evidence of your existence, you worm! Now show yourself; I may give you a slightly less painful demise than I have planned!"

Suddenly, there was a blur that sped towards Archer. The King of Heroes, however, had not expected this, and was slower than he usually was. Thus, with a screech a single heavy sword was slashed across his magnificent armour, forever marring it and ruining its perfection. Archer grunted, before he sloppily managed to punch the assailant in the chest, sending him flying downwards at the ground before he righted himself.

Archer breathed in deeply, as he ran his armored hands across the gash on his armor. It ran from the left shoulder to the right hip. It was slightly deep, a mark that other treasures of his would remedy, but it was a slight against him. Archer trembled in great fury, and he turned a hateful gaze upon that worm.

The assailant was clad in a red jacket of sorts, with a black shirt underneath from what Archer could see. His boots were steel-toed, but that was all unimportant; he took note of that red hair with white patches, and those insolent amber eyes. Archer's blood fired up; how dare that mongrel attack its owner?!

"How dare you scar one of my treasures, mutt!" Archer screamed, utterly angry and unwilling to calm down. "How dare you attack your owner, mongrel! I will personally make sure that you die a thousand deaths tonight! But before I deliver my righteous fury upon you, declare yourself."

The Servant had surprised all present, even Kayneth and Kiritsugu. He had not only attacked Archer from the sidelines, but he had also, through some impossible chance, scarred that golden armor of his. They could see no evidence of weaponry on him; that made him even more surprising.

However, it was clear to Saber that this Servant was experienced in combat; his stance gave it away, though the stance itself was flawed. There were so many openings that it almost seemed like he was intentionally posed like that. That didn't matter though; Saber was confident that if Avenger used that stance then she'd be able to easily beat him.

Irisviel, meanwhile, was trying to make sense of the chaos. This Servant had just openly attacked Archer; if he was aware of Archer's power, then why did he antagonize him by apparently harming his pride? Irisivel also had a split-second look at the weapon the Servant had used to damage Archer's armor.

It curved at the end, and half of its blade seemed to be purple and the other half the deepest black. The guard also curved, but it was gold. The hilt was bound in black and the pommel was also gold with a jewel set in it. Even though it was a split-second, she had seen the blade heat up to the extent it was extremely hot. It had then disappeared into gold, the Servant presumably discarding it.

Iri was certain that that sword had been this Servant's Noble Phantasm; what else could have damaged that golden armor so much? It looked was Norse in origin, so this Hero must be from that mythology or from their legends. That would be a good starting point for research, as that blade had bourne hallmarks of other countries.

"Well, mongrel? Declare yourself so that I might take some enjoyment in crushing you and your insolence." Archer's voice was cold, but the sword and spear realigned themselves so that they were pointing at the Servant. Iri was still surprised at the power the nameless Servant had displayed.

"I am Avenger, of the Fourth Holy Grail War." Avenger declared, and all present, Masters and Servants, were surprised even Gilgamesh. "Archer...I have been ordered to kill you."

Iri was in shock; Avenger? The shame that the Einzbern's had tried to bury underneath all of their recent accomplishments? That Class had been summoned once more? It was immensely surprising, given that her grandfather had been certain that Avenger would not show up again; it had been an irregularity, he had said.

So the fact that Avenger had been summoned was a great shock, as well as generating fear inside of her chest. While Avenger had been weak in the last War, this one was almost certainly more powerful than Angra Mainyu. He had managed to distract Archer, the most powerful Servant of this War going by the casual ease with which he had killed Assassin.

"Hahahaha..." Archer's shoulders now trembled, before he threw back his head and laughed as if at some private joke of his before fixing a red eye on Avenger. "You have some courage, saying that to me mongrel. You've deluded yourself into thinking that you can kill me, the King of all the world? Truly, you must have been a jester in life."

"However..." Archer said sadistically, and the Noble Phantasms began to glow as he readied to shoot them at this insolent mutt. "You have sealed your fate by mocking me, cur!"

At speeds that made sure humans could not follow, the sword and spear were launched at Avenger. Avenger was calm, yet that stoicness bellied nervousness. If even one of them hit him full on, he wouldn't survive. Therefore he had to deflect the weapons as best he could.

In a moment, he had Traced Kanshou and Bakuya, and in the split second before the sword and spear hit him, with great strength and Reinforced arms, he batted the weapons away, which slammed into the ground on either side of him. A huge cloud of smoke resulted from this, and the ground exploded into tiny pieces around him.

All of the crowd were now watching, and they gave gasps as the dust cleared and they saw the status of Avenger.

Avenger was not injured in any way, though his clothes were dirtied by dust. In his hands were two Chinese style falchions that were no doubt the reason for his survival, having knocked the weapons away even at the speeds they had been travelling at. But, even as they watched, the two falchions cracked, before they broke into tiny fragments, the motes of light being scattered by the wind.

"W-w-what?!" Waver Valvet cried out in disbelief; Avenger had _survived _that assault? But how had he done it? "How did that guy survive those weapons?!"

A finger-flick to the head, and Waver was sent crashing down to the floor of the ox-driven chariot. He rose to admonish his Servant, before he saw that Rider was unusually focused, holding his chin between his forefinger and thumb. Waver had never seen his lazy Servant like this, so he was speechless.

"Quiet, boy. Didn't you see?" Rider asked, a smile adorning his face. "He reacted quick enough that he was able to use those weapons of his to slightly influence the course of that sword and spear, enough so that he could survive. That is quite an achievement, even for a Servant; exceptional reaction time."

It was then that Waver saw Avenger's weapons dissipate into light, before expressing his surprise as an identical pair were held in his hands the next instant. "What? Those weapons just broke, didn't they? How can he have them again?"

"It's not impossible for Noble Phantasms to have the ability of being recreated or multiplied." Rider reminded Waver; anything was possible when it came to Noble Phantasms. "Indeed, if he was a blacksmith in life that would make sense. But...this talent of recreating his weapons is more of the Caster class' abilities. Indeed, I am surprised he was not summoned in that class. Nevertheless, he would be a worthy addition to my Empire!"

Waver sighed at Rider's intent; both Lancer and Saber had turned him down, and it seemed that wouldn't stop him in the least from allying with Avenger. Meanwhile, Archer gave Avenger an even more venomous glare than before, gritting his teeth as about sixteen portals opened, more devastating Noble Phantasms at the ready.

Avenger eyed each and every one of them, storing them inside his mind for future Tracing. He knew that Archer would be immensely insulted, so he raised Kanshou and Bakuya in preparation. His limbs were still Reinforced, but an assault that size would mean he would take some injuries.

"So you continue to defy me by living, mongrel..." Archer seethed, clenching his hands into fists that very nearly cracked his armor on their own. "You may be lucky, but even luck will not protect you, _MONGREL!"_

Sixteen portals...Avenger reacted far faster than he had ever done so before; he had never come under this kind of firepower from anything. With expert motions he batted away each of those original weapons, discarding his own when they broke and Tracing a new set immediately. He couldn't Trace anything more than Kanshou and Bakuya in this storm-he and Kariya had mutually agreed to keep the true secret of his Tracing from the other Servants for as long as possible.

However, eventually, he began to sustain injuries. Not terribly bad ones-they would heal quick enough-but they hindered his effectiveness, and the more cuts he got the more openings were generated. Soon enough, his weapons were destroyed and his body littered with wounds.

The rain of steel had ended by that point, but Avenger was struggling to keep up; his body was burning from Reinforcement, and his mana was in desperate need of recharging before he fought again. But he had enough power left to finish this fight. He wouldn't win right now, but if he could at least damage Archer's armor or the Servant itself before he had to retreat, then that would be fine by him.

"Are you ready to die mongrel?" Archer asked condescendingly, so assured of his victory that Avenger was irritated by it. "I do hope you'll get on your knees and beg me to spare you; it would be quite entertaining."

Avenger smirked at Archer, whose own slid off of his face. "Sorry to say, but I'm not the kind of guy that grovels or waits to die. If I'm gonna die, then that's that. But I'll keep fighting to survive, I can guarantee you that...Archer!"

Another set of copies of Kanshou and Bakuya appeared in his hands, and he dashed at Archer's position. He leapt up, before slashing downwards with Bakuya. Archer managed to dodge the strike, but the container was cleaved in two. Avenger jumped back, weapons held at the ready. Archer was no longer the image of arrogance now, and that gave Avenger some satisfaction.

Without a moment to lose, Avenger bounded at Archer again, who withdrew two swords, and held one in each hand. Avenger copied them instantly-nameless swords, but they were durable enough. Kanshou and Bakuya would be able to stand up to them.

"Damn you mongrel, making me fight you personally...!" Archer growled, and the two Servants clashed their weapons against each other. Sparks burst into existence, and Archer's boots sunk into the metal of the containers. Eventually, Archer threw Avenger away at a container on the ground.

"Forcing me to stand on the same ground as you, how insulting!" Archer shouted again, and before Avenger could properly right himself Archer viciously slashed at his right arm. Avenger ducked, but the blade still cut into him.

Avenger winced, before rolling to the side and stabbing Kanshou forward. Archer batted the black sword away, before Avenger swerved on the balls of his feet and went for a slash with a freshly Traced Kanshou. Archer reacted just in time, but Kanshou still cut some into the golden armor; if not scratching it then certainly battering it.

"Fine then, Archer. Let's see which of our blades are superior!" Avenger called out, and dashed at Archer, who jumped back before dashing forward as well, bringing those nameless swords against Avenger's, causing an explosion of sparks.

* * *

><p>The rest of the crowd were in amazement as those two Servants clashed. Avenger fought with the ferocity of a wild beast, and Archer was not much better. And despite them all having witnessed Archer's power, they were in shock that this Avenger was fighting him on near equal ground.<p>

However, Saber was experienced enough in combat that even she could see that while Avenger had skill, Archer had power. Many times those black and white swords of Avenger were broken only to be reforged. Now Saber could understand Avenger's stance; it was deliberately taking advantage of his Noble Phantasm's ability to duplicate or repair itself.

Even so...her eyes narrowed at Archer, as he broke the black sword in Avenger's left hand. Archer did not lack experience in close quarters either, and he was gaining ground against Avenger as surely as he was losing it. Avenger himself trembled from having to hold off or redirect Archer's strength.

"Truly, this is a clash of Heroes!" Rider declared his admiration to the world, while Saber only gave him an irritated glance. She had not forgotten his proposition. "See now, this is how we Servants should fight; with all our power, fighting to the last breath! This is a battle worthy of being a bout in the Holy Grail War."

She paid no mind to him, only turning back to Irisviel, who was still behind her. "Irisivel, it would be best for you to retreat. I cannot afford injury to you, and with this battle occuring in close proximity, it would be the wisest course of action."

She had grown to like Irisviel, even if Saber had a marked distaste for her _true _Master. Irisviel was so kind, and gentle that it would have taken quite a monster of a man to hate her, or even dislike her. She was possessed of a childish naivete most of the time, but she was resolute in her will. That was one of her faults; she was too stubborn to see that it would make sense to retreat, as they had briefly discussed during Saber's bout with Lancer.

"I'm staying here Saber," Irisviel replied, her face showing her resolution. "You will need my support, in case anything happens. Even if I can't heal your left arm, I will do my best to help."

Saber's left thumb was still useless, and given that golden spear's curse and Lancer's identity, was not surprising. She had heard of him when she had been alive, and to face someone she had respected was a true boon of the Holy Grail War. His honor and chivalry was also remarkable; he had made no attempt to strike at Rider or her, despite the pragmatic value.

She knew that she would respect Lancer best out of all of the other Servants.

"_Lancer, why are you stopping? Take your spears and kill Saber! You've had ample time to do so."_ The cruel voice of Lancer's Master cut through the din, but the battling Servants paid it no heed.

Immediately, Saber was on guard; Lancer's Master struck her as cruel, and very nearly a monster in his own right. He had stated his intention to torture that boy Master of Rider's to death for such a slight. Saber had come across countless nobles during her reign that had been much the same; even touch their possessions and your own life was forfeit.

"My lord, I swore I would take Saber's head, but not now." Lancer declared to his Master, hope colouring his tone. "I will fight her honourably, and I promise that when that time comes I _will _kill her. Please, believe me!"

The silence was almost palpable, and Saber could see the hope in Lancer's eyes, even as she knew that Lancer's Master would decline. He was not like his Servant; a coward, and a man without morals at first glance. It hurt her to see how misplaced Lancer's trust was; his Master was not a kind man, and he reminded her of Kiritsugu a little.

"_By the power of this Command Seal..."_

Lancer's eyes lost all hope, but he merely stood stock still as his Master proceeded to take his will away. Saber felt pity for Lancer; her opponent deserved to fight her honourably, and as a duel between knights. Not by the will of someone else. The will to fight should belong to Lancer and Lancer alone.

"_Lancer, kill Saber through whatever means necessary!" _

Irisviel sensed the magic that now bound Lancer to his Master's command; binding his bones and muscles. Even though Saber was going to have to kill Lancer eventually, the kind silver-haired woman's pity went to the Irish knight. She knew the tales of Diarmuid well, as part of her role as the Einzbern's artificial Master and the Vessel of the Grail.

Lancer slowly turned around, so that his tortured face was staring right at Saber, who's own eyes were full of pity. Even Rider looked up at the buildings in some amount of contempt for Lancer's Master. While the boisterous Servant believed that combat was where men proved their worth, at the same time the soldiers deserved to fight for themselves, and not others.

It had been the same with his own men. He had never once asked them to fight with them even if they faced impossible odds. He would have understood if some did not wish to die and leave their friends and family without them. Yes, Rider knew that well; everytime his soldiers died, he sent condolensces to the families.

As their King, he could not refuse to do so, and he took responsibility for his Empire. And in turn, they served him with unquestionable loyalty. His heart soared as he remembered them, but now his face was solemn, and cold. Lancer's Master was much more of a coward than Rider originally thought.

"Saber...forgive me." Lancer mourned, and he bore his spears, before throwing Gae Buidhe at Saber.

She had almost not been able to react in time, but slashed it away with the invisible Excalibur. Though, even as she did so, Lancer bounded to the side, and dashed forward, Gae Dearg ready to spear Irisviel right through. Saber's eyes widened, and so did Irisviel's as her impending demise approached. Lancer bore the hallmarks of tears on his face at being ordered to do such an act.

Thankfully, Saber was able to roughly push Irisviel to the side, saving the woman at the cost of Saber's armor being pierced again, this time through her shoulder as she made motions to dodge. She hissed as the spear buried itself into her shoulder, before she swept her sword at Lancer, forcing him to leave his spear still embedded in Saber's shoulder.

The female knight hissed in pain, as she forced her left arm to grasp the shaft of the spear despite the excruciating pain she was in. With a rough motion, she pulled it out before throwing it at Lancer's feet, stunning all present at her resolve.

"Saber!" Irisviel cried out, before challenging healing magic towards Saber's wound, the flesh sealing up. It did nothing for the blood she had lost, and Saber stumbled slightly. She even had to degrade Excalibur to balancing herself momentarily.

"Thank you Irisviel. Are you unharmed?" Saber asked of her fake Master, concerned for her state. Lancer was priming to attack again, though his limbs bore some resistance this time, trying to stop himself carrying out this command.

"Yes Saber. As your Master, please, fight to survive!" Irisviel declared, and Saber smiled at Irisviel's kindness. No doubt, Kiritsugu would have used a Command Seal to force her to fight against her will. That was where she saw similarities between him and Lancer's Master.

"Of course."

Saber then dashed at Lancer, aware that her armor would protect her from his golden spear, but vulnerable to his red one. Truly, Diarmuid was exceptional, and his Noble Phantams were well suited against an opponent like her. If only they were fighting in different circumstances.

However, before they could clash, there was the blast of lightning that forced the two Servants apart. She looked to Rider, who had his sword outstretched to the sky, glaring at the places where Lancer's Master may be. He was now a far cry from the Servant who had appeared stupid to her, and more of a King like he had claimed to be.

"I see now. You are the kind of Master that deserves an individual such as Lancer." Rider's tone was deathly cold, as if Lancer's Master had personally insulted him. "You are much more of a coward than I thought; to take away Lancer's right to decide if he should fight or not."

"_Still your tongue, Servant." _Lancer's Master commanded, and Rider bristled; Saber could see the signs that showed that Rider may act on his own initiative soon. _"I hardly see why I cannot order Lancer like the dog he is. After all, the name is apparent; MASTERS are meant to order SERVANTS. As is our right, Rider."_

"But you take away the one thing Lancer could decide for himself!" Rider shouted, nearly bursting eardrums of several others. "Lancer has expressed his loyalty to you, and I cannot fault him for that. But a man must fight for himself, desire it in his heart of hearts, not to be ordered to do so like a boy-servant!"

The idea that a soldier could fight because they WANT to instead of being called to attention, or ordered to do so made Saber furrow her brows. By Rider's logic, could a man desert the battlefield if he so wanted? That made Saber's grip tighten on Excalibur's invisible hilt. When she called knights and soldiers to fight, any who deserted were dealt with by execution, no matter their pleas. The King did not show mercy.

"_What a foolish notion; I order Lancer because _I can. _I care not for his honor or chivalry; to win the Grail, I will order him as I wish! _Nothing _will stand between me and the Grail!"_

That made Saber herself bristle in anger, and she too turned her wrath to Lancer's hidden Master. "Does Lancer mean so little to you?! Is he only valuable merely an object?!"

"_Of course! That's what he is-that's what you all are! Mere mana constructs with the consciousness of Heroes!" _Lancer's Master snarled back. _"As far as I'm concerned, you aren't even _human!_"_

The debate was then interrupted, even as Saber clenched her teeth and Rider's jaw squared, that an enormous boom echoed from Archer and Avenger.

They all turned just in time to see Avenger punch Archer in the face.

* * *

><p><em>Several minutes ago...<em>

Despite Avenger's vague hopes, it was clear that Archer would eventually beat him. The golden Servant lived up to his boasts of greatness; it seemed nearly every other clash that Avenger's weapons broke, allowing Archer to gain some ground against him, and at times nearly skewer him.

He leapt off of the container he had just planted his feet on, leaping at Archer. His swords flashed as they clashed with Archer's own, and through strength Archer pushed Avenger off to the side, and the red-clad Servant righted himself by planting his feet in the ground, skidding.

Almost immediately he rushed at the golden-clad Servant again, slashing at him with his black sword. Similarly, Archer lashed out with the sword in his left hand. Archer let Kanshou hit his armor, and his other sword made to slice off Avenger's arm. Thankfully, he had seen it coming and raised Bakuya in a block.

The deadlock lasted several seconds before Bakuya and Kanshou broke and Avenger leaned back, Tracing his weapons again and, Reinforcing his legs kicked at Archer's chest. Because of that armor, Archer barely felt the impact but it did make him skid back a little. Reprieve that Avenger was too happy to ignore.

Getting back to his feet, he recalled EMIYA's ultimate technique, and the one he had used to finish Saber. He closed his eyes, and saw his Magic Circuits begin to flare to life, the chant of the technique echoing inside of his head as it did once before.

_Spirit and technique, flawless and firm..._

He threw the copies of Kanshou and Bakuya that were in his hands at Archer, who brushed them aside with pathetic ease. Almost immediately after he Traced more copies and dashed right at Archer, bringing them down the golden chestpiece that screeched with anguish.

_Our strength rips the moutains..._

_Our swords split the water..._

He Traced a third time, and lashed out with Kanshou first, before whirling around the slash that was coming from Archer's left hand sword and stabbed Bakuya at him. Avenger could sense it; that armor was nearly at its limit. Kanshou and Bakuya were a remarkable pair of Noble Phantasms; alone, they were nothing. But together, they were highly magic resistant. That was why he was doing this. He was certain the armor would sustain blows and fall apart soon.

One more strike would do it.

_Our names reach the imperial villa..._

"Trace Overedge."

Finally, he called Kanshou and Bakuya into his hands once more, and fed them mana. Instantly, they grew twice their size, and with feather-like attachments along the backs of their blades. Archer seemed startled and interested at this change, as well as being incredibly angry.

Avenger could tell why. Despite his armor being incredibly durable, Archer would have been faster without it. Despite it being a Noble Phantasm, armor always weighed down those who fought for extended times in it. Saber's battle skirt and other armor was different; though it was enchanted, they were only on the essential places for protection. Archer was weighing himself down with full-body armor.

One more strike. He dashed at Archer before the latter had time to recover from the consecutive blows. He drew his swords over his shoulders for an x-shaped slash. Archer was already moving his swords to counter, but he was too slow. Avenger reached him, and he saw Archer's thunderous expression as he slashed at that pesky armor once more, hard enough to leave more scars and for his swords to disappear.

_The two of us cannot hold heaven together..._

_Two great men, sharing a life!_

Avenger breathed heavily, thinking he would have a few moments of respite. But Archer's armor, though it was damaged, had protected him sufficiently. Avenger barely had time to turn around before Archer's right hand sword slashed at his chest, blood spurting forth from the wound. It was not fatal, but it drained Avenger's vitality all the same.

He stabbed his Traced swords into the ground, breathing heavily from wounds sustained across his chest, and down his arms. Even his cheek was bleeding. Avenger was now noticing the wounds he had sustained, though he had forgotten about them in his assault on Archer. He was beginning to feel the real drain now, of fighting the armored Servant for a long time. His vision was beginning to fade in and out of focus.

_Focus. _Archer's advantages lied in his strength, which Kariya informed him ouclassed his own. Even if he wasn't a Master of blades, Archer still had the physical prowess for the battle. He had endurance as well to back up his fearsome stamina; Archer barely seemed winded in contrast to Avenger.

This was single-handedly the greatest challenge Avenger had faced in battle, even though the image of a large, black giant crossed his mind before he dismissed it. Archer had all the advantages of being summoned by a Master who could support his enormous strength, while Avenger had siphoned some away so that Kariya could heal. If he had not done that, Avenger might have lasted a little longer, but he didn't regret it.

Alright, that armor was the main problem. Despite carving into it with Ridill, the sword that had carved out Fafnir's heart and absorbed some of the fiersome drake's intense flames, the armor had not rattled once, nor was it even structurally compromised as Avenger used Structural Grasping.

It was very annoying, but it was clear that Archer was not as dismissive or as arrogant as he thought; the Servant still understood that without that armor he stood no chance, and even though Lancer could easily kill him with Gae Dearg Archer would have enough time to kill the Irish Servant in turn.

The armor was clearly a Noble Phantasm of its own; at least A-Rank, as Ridill had been a high-tier B-Rank Noble Phantasm, and in order to Trace it Avenger had been forced to loosen the Shroud of Martin momentarily. That also tied into his exhaustion; every time he unsealed and sealed the Shroud, it drained some of his stamina and energy. It would take a while for him to regain it.

Time he did not have at the moment.

"Well, dog, you have been entertaining to say the least." Archer snidely taunted Avenger, who was still trying to get his breath back. "Unfortunately, I no longer have a need for you; it's time for the curtain to close on your crude show! By scarring my armor, you have sealed your fate!"

Avenger closed his eyes, thinking through his options. The best he could come up with involved striking Archer's only unprotected region; his face. Maybe it was his arrogant that prevented him from using a helmet, but Avenger was planning on taking advantage of that arrogance.

He scanned through his library of Noble Phantasms, trying to find one that was powerful enough to force Archer to either retreat or to at least give him pause for a few minutes. There were several that came to mind, but none of them had the Tracing time that was required; Archer would certainly know what he was doing.

Then, the image of two gauntlets appeared in his mind's eye. They were beautiful, made from enchanted bronze and fashioned over the fingers like a cestus. Fur sprouted from the back of them towards the forearm, but what was more important was their identity.

Jarngreipr, the gauntlets of Thor. Many did not realize that the weight of Mjollnir required Jarngreipr, for even Thor's godly muscles and immense strength could be defeated by Mjollnir's weight. They were incredibly durable but also very powerful. They could even break a wall of iron.

There was a problem, however. Jarngreipr was a Noble Phantasm that was ranked B+. He could Trace it, but it would take moments longer than he was comfortable with. He would have to release the Shroud of Martin in order to Trace it. He recalled the static that filled his mind, but he refused to submit to that, not while he had to win.

"Shroud of Martin..." Avenger muttered to himself, unravelling the seals on the shroud. "Release."

He didn't release the Shroud fully, but the needles still stabbed into his brain, trying to make him falter or to make him into swords again. He grunted as he forced himself to dispel Kanshou and Bakuya, and slumped down onto one knee, his right hand steadying him in place. His left hand was clenched behind his back; one of Jarngreipr would be Traced onto it.

"Oh? What is this, mongrel?" Archer mocked Avenger, dropping his hand and dismissing the two swords as well as the weapons that littered the battleground. "Do you have any last words? I suppose as your King I COULd allow you to express your foolishness."

Avenger was vaguely aware that the other Servants were talking to his right. What about he didn't know because of the white noise steadily invading his hearing, and the static was beginning to obscure his vision. He wouldn't allow that. He wouldn't let himself be consumed by EMIYA's arm.

He looked up at Archer's smug face, before smiling.

"Yeah, I do have a few words left in me." He clenched his hand once more, feeling the weight of the gauntlet that was not yet present on it.

"Trace...On!"

In a burst of light, Jarngreipr appeared on his hand, and without pause, Avenger pushed all of his power to his legs, and leapt at Archer in a display of speed. He barely had time to see the _shock _on Archer's face as he brought his left hand to bear, ready to give a left cross enhanced by Thor's power.

"_JARNGREIPR!"_

He landed the blow on Archer's face, and for a moment they were held there by time. His left fist was pushing against Archer's cheek, and he could see that a few teeth were being dislodged by the power of Jarngreipr, and Archer's mouth began to leak blood. He could also vaguely see that the others present were looking at him in wonder at this feat.

Then, time sped up once more, and Archer was flung backwards, crashing into the container behind him before being punched _through _it and through the next one. It was safe to assume that Archer would not be recovering from the blow for some time, even if his Master accelerated his healing by providing him with mana.

Avenger collapsed to his knees, his right arm gripping his left as laboured breaths left him. Now that the last of his energy was spent for now, EMIYA's arm was threatening to overcome him. His left hand clenched at the asphault, carving trails into it as Avenger tried to reassert his control over the Shroud.

He resealed the Shroud after some amount of difficulty, and even after the Shroud was safely secured his left arm was throbbing as if his blood pressure had risen, and as if it had been bruised greatly. Sweat dripped off of his brow as the arm began to calm down, gradually loosening its grip on the ground and Avenger could _breathe _again.

Rider, meanwhile, glanced at that arm of Avenger's that was bound in cloth. Even though Rider was human, as a possible descendant of Zeus he had sensed the raw _power _that had coursed through that gauntlet. He did not know of its name, but it radiated of lightning. It was a formidable weapon; Rider elevated Avenger several levels up on his threats.

Then, his gaze turned to the bound arm, which was relaxing now. Even though in life Rider hadn't been spiritually aware or attracted to the magic arts, even he could sense the aura that surrounded that arm. It was a violent crimson, specked with yellow as if it was a flame. What interested him was that as that cloth tightened around the arm the aura and the feeling were dimmed, muted as it were.

Then, Rider surmised, that cloth acted as a seal to Avenger's greater power, keeping it from overwhelming him. This was obvious to the King of Conquerors, who had been given a basic education in how to 'feel' magic from his boyhood years though they had largely not been useful to him.

"How dare you..." The violent voice of Archer echoed out of the containers he had been smashed into. "How _dare _you strike me, you mutt? How _dare _you harm my visage...!"

Archer stepped out of the containers, and was looking much worse for wear than Avenger would have thought. His armor was scratched and scarred in various places, and he could hear the strained creak it made as Archer stepped forward, threatening to come apart. Also, Archer's face was a mass of blood and a huge bruise on the side Avenger had punched him on.

The look he was giving was monstrous.

"_HOW DARE YOU HARM YOUR KING?!" _Archer roared out, and more golden portals began to appear around him.

At first, it was two, then five, then ten. Soon, about thirty portals were opened and aimed right for Avenger. Avenger breathed in and out heavily; he had expended much of his energy in the fight with Archer. He would have to go into his astral form to recuperate when the time came. But even in his state, he knew that he would not be able to stop all of those Noble Phantasms.

They were innumerable, and varied in type. Swords, spears, axes, halberds...Avenger even saw Vajra among the treasures aimed right at him. It seemed that Archer was unbelievably angry; he was exposing more and more of his power by succumbing to his pride. All it did was give Avenger more weapons to use against him in the future.

That was another point he had seen with the golden warrior's fighting style. While he was undoubtedly talented when it came to sword play, he was sluggish at times, and he overextended more than once. That implied that he was not used to fighting either with two swords, and which further meant that he could not use his Noble Phantasms the way they were meant to.

Fortunately, Avenger was able to replicate the skill of the owner of the weapon he had Traced; Kanshou and Bakuya were the sole exceptions as they had not even been used in battle before being chained up. He mimicked EMIYA's stance most of the time, but since he was younger and smaller, he could take advantage of more holes in his opponents guards.

Fear spread through Avenger, and his blood froze. He could even see his hand shaking at the danger that was screaming at him from those Noble Phantams. He could tell everyone was affected; the boy had even cowered in the chariot, and Rider was looking grim. Only Lancer and Saber shared his expression; amazement belied by terror.

Archer was undoubtedly the strongest Servant in this War.

"Ah, that look on your disgusting face." Archer said, the wounds healing gradually courtesy of his Master. "It seems you have realized your folly in striking me, mutt. However, any mercy I had for you has been extinguished! I will cause you the greatest of pains, and I will only let you die when your torture has satisfied me! Now, let us see if you can stop my wrath, mongrel!"

Suddenly, the Servant paused, and looked up at the sky. Avenger was puzzled; why was Archer doing that? It was only when he began to speak that he understood that Archer was talking to his Master about this issue. Archer's face was the picture of barely restrained wrath.

"You would tell me to run, like a coward? Leave these mongrels with the impression I am _mortal _and beatable?" Archer sneered, before closing the golden portals. "When we talk, Tokiomi, you will know my fury."

Archer turned back to the Servants assembled, disappearing into golden light as he did so. "By the time I see you next, make sure that you cull your numbers. Only then will I entertain myself with your foolish attempts to kill me. You, mutt."

Avenger realized Archer was addressing him, and turned a tired eye on him. "While your state gives me great pleasure, see to it that you do not die before we next battle. Only I will be allowed to kill you, who has harmed me and has stomped on my kingship. Next we meet, be prepared to meet some imputent god. Any who kill you before we next meet will suffer the most gruesome of fates."

"I don't have any intention of dying just yet, Archer." Avenger managed to get out, his vision swimming. "I'll be waiting."

Archer gave a curt nod and then left, those words hanging on the wind. All of those present were trying to comprehend what had just occurred. Avenger felt Kariya's pleasure through their link. He was happy that Avenger had wounded Archer so much, and was glad of the chance that they would do battle again.

"_Well then Tokiomi! We'll be waiting for you next time. Next time...we will kill your Servant for certain!"_

Avenger suddenly remembered Lancer's Master, declaring that he would kill Rider's Master-Waver, was it?-for stealing his relic. He had been battling Archer, but those words now came clearly to his mind. He staggered to his feet, before turning to the place he knew Lancer's Master was at.

"Before I go, I have one question for you, Lancer's Master." Avenger declared, and he could see the puzzlement in the eyes of the Servants gathered and Saber's Master. "Are you going to kill Rider's Master?"

Kayneth answered with a snort of derision. _"Of course I am. That boy has humiliated me, Servant, and I will be having my revenge. After all, he has had it coming ever since he stole my relic from me."_

"I see..." Avenger murmured, swaying slightly. "Your revenge would dictate you to kill him, even though he's so much younger than you, and more inexperienced. That says a lot about you, and it's not particularly good."

He Traced Kanshou and Bakuya into his hands, and stared up in defiance. "I don't like guys who want to kill children; that makes them the worst kind of monsters to me. It makes them totally despicable. With your Master's answer, there's no chance of us ever having an alliance, Lancer. And I don't want one. Sorry, in advance."

With that, he tossed Kanshou at Lancer's Master, his face stoic even as he heard the cry of pain as Kanshou tore into Kayneth's arm, very nearly severing it from the rest of his body. They were all looking in shock at Avenger now, with Lancer's face being a mask of perfectly mastered rage.

"Damn you Avenger! Striking my Master...I should kill you right now!" Lancer shouted, bearing his lances. "But my Master needs my assistance, so I will save my anger against you for the next time we meet."

Lancer turned to jump to his Master's aid, before Avenger asked him one more question. "Would you stand by, as someone threatens a kid, Lancer? I didn't think that Diarmuid Ua Duibhne would obey a Master like that. I didn't think he would obey a Master like that without questioning him. I thought he was more noble than to automatically submit himself to such a Master. I guess I was mistaken."

Lancer flinched from the harsh words that Avenger spoke, but they both knew it was true. Diarmuid deserved a Master who respected him and his honour, not trample over it. He deserved a Master like him; kind, gentle and honourable. Not a Master who took sadistic pleasure in planning to kill a child for a minor inconvienience.

Lancer didn't say a word as he flitted to his Master's side, bearing him away from this battlefield.

"What about you, sniper?" Avenger asked the air, whipping Bakuya through it, and hearing the buzz-like sound as it carved through the rifle. "I can guess that you're an asset to one of the Masters, but would you kill children, especially an innocent guy like Rider's Master is?"

Silence answered him. "I guess I won't be getting an answer from you right now. But if we meet again, I'll be waiting for one."

Saber gripped her sword even tighter. It was clear that it was Kiritsugu who had lain in the shadows, waiting to kill Masters. Her respect for her true Master plummeted even more. To think that Kiritsugu would not only try to eliminate Masters when presented with the opportunity, but he even left Irisviel unprotected when she had been fighting. It was perhaps her own fault, but she thought that he would have more love towards his wife.

It was perhaps the accusation that he would kill that child Master of Rider's that insulted her more. Even in her time, her knights knew that children were to be protected, and those that violated that protection deserved to be answered by their swords. She sincerely hoped that even Kiritsugu would not have an answer for that. If he did, she hoped he would say no. She didn't think herself nor Irisviel could handle it if he said he would kill children for his goals.

"Goodbye for now." Avenger said in parting to the others present, though he could see Rider nodding his head as if he agreed with Avenger's statements. "I'll most likely be seeing you later this week. After all, we have a War to fight, don't we?"

He then left, leaving each with a different impression of him. Irisviel was surprised at his apparent age and power, as well as being Avenger. Saber was cautious of him, as he had attacked Lancer's Master; that showed he was willing to do anything to desist others from action. And Rider was given the impression that Avenger was a noble man, to protect his Master in that way. He hoped to gain him for his wonderous army, and if they fought he would mourn the fact that such a talent would go to waste.

They were left with their own musings before Rider departed without a word, undoubtedly with much on his mind. Only Irisviel and Saber were left alone on the docks, with the waves soothing them.

* * *

><p>From where he was situated, Kariya laughed long and hard.<p>

It was nearly unbelievable. Avenger had not only defeated Archer but _humiliated _him utterly! It was like euphoria to him, knowing that his Servant was so much better than Tokiomi's; the fact Avenger almost lost slipped his addled mind. He was just enjoying the fact that Tokiomi would be greatly displeasured by this spectacle.

"How ironic Tokiomi." Kariya laughed again, before tightening his grip on Caduceus. "You're so condescending towards others it's arrogant, so what do you think of me and Avenger? There's absolutely no doubt in my mind, that we will beat you Tokiomi."

He felt some churn in his stomach, and he coughed hard. Some blood splattered on the ground, along with some Crest Worms that were struggling weakly. Kariya wiped the blood off of his hand, before walking through the darkness, waiting for Avenger.

"My body's getting stronger...guess Avenger was right about this staff's powers. He might be a little weaker now, but at least I'll survive." The image of Sakura smiling fueled Kariya, who continued on with a smile on his face.

"Now, I might have a chance. Sorry, Sakura...just wait a little longer..."

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><p><strong>Well, here's the second and last part of the Battle at the Docks two-parter. I particularly enjoyed coming up with the Noble Phantasms that Gilgamesh was gonna spam at those present, and they may or may not be important later on. Now, to the issue of EMIYA's arm that some have commented on.<strong>

**I will make this clear now; Avenger has never RELEASED the Shroud like he did in Heaven's Feel. He has only loosened it, so he is unused to the power that flows into him. Since he doesn't have good control of it it runs rampant. This will change as he finds himself unsealing the Shroud more and more. **

**You guys are probably gonna wonder why Avenger got so vindictive at the end in regards to Kayneth and possibly Kiritsugu. A little bit of canon; EMIYA never considered killing Illya, despite it being advantageous. He might have sacrificed the town as a whole to kill Caster in UBW, but he would never kill a child individually I think.**

**Thus, and since Avenger/Shirou is a nice guy, he wouldn't particularly take someone THREATENING Waver-even if he is less a kid-but he is still out of his depths. Avenger protected Waver partly because of his desire to save people, even though he discarded the majority of his previous ideal, and because he is so out of his depth it is almost pathetic. **

**He gave Lancer a 'The Reason You Suck' Speech because let's face it, why did Lancer not question his Master even if he heard him threatening Waver? I know it's because Lancer obeys Kayneth without question but seriously! In canon that is my only complaint about Zero Lancer; he's too damn loyal! Don't worry, that speech of Avenger's will play into some Character Development for Lancer, the first step towards averting the Lancer Curse as it is called. **

**Now, in the spirit of the Visual Novel, I'll list new Noble Phantasms that Avenger encounters here. **

**-/-**

**Gungnir: Spear of Thunder**

**Type: Anti-Army **

**Rank: A+ **

**Range: 5-80**

**No of Targets: 80 people**

**This Noble Phantasm spear is the prototype to the later Gae Bolg, and possibly Gae Dearg and Gae Buidhe, though this is unclear as of now. It has been owned by several heroes through time, though this is possibly because a second copy was created after Gilgamesh took the first.**

**It was originally a spear capable of manipulating lightning, as well as transforming into a lightning bolt that could kill a mass of people or strike faster than light. This is where Gae Bolg's instant kill attack is descended from; Gungnir's own instant kill attack is fast enough that the target will die not knowing they were hit with it. **

**Since this spear was responsible for the Hero Siegmund's death by breaking his sword, it is at its most powerful when it clashes with a sword, breaking it unless it is a Noble Phantasm that is ranked the same or higher than it. However, against other weapons it is just a spear. It is only against Heroes that wield swords that the power that killed Siegmund is unleashed. **

**-/-**

**Durandal: The Peerless Sword**

**Type: Anti-Unit/Anti-Army **

**Rank: A**

**Range: 1/40**

**No of Targets: 1/100**

**This Noble Phantasm originally was forged by the best blacksmith in the world at the time of Gilgamesh's rule. When the King of Heroes took it, the blacksmith forged another, creating a second sword that eventually became the Durandal of Roland. **

**However, it had also been the sword of Hector of Troy before his death, and was eventually passed to the Hero Roland. As the sharpest blade in existence, it is possible to cut through many materials with ease, though it specializes in materials that can be cut normally**

**It also functions as an Anti-Army Noble Phantasm, which is due to Roland unsuccessfully trying to destroy it, leading to the creation of the La Breche de Roland, as well as holding off the army that killed Roland. Due to this, it can also create fissures if it is used that way.**

**-/-**

**Ridill: Bane of Fafnir**

**Type: Anti-Unit**

**Rank: A**

**Range: 1**

**No of Targets: 1**

**Ridill was forged by the Dwarven blacksmith Regin for the use in killing Fafnir. After the battle was done, Ridill was used to cut out Fafnir's heart, gaining a great deal of Fafnir's former flame powers. In this capacity, Ridill can use those flames to an extent to its own advantage. **

**Since it was also strong enough to pierce a dragon's scales, one of the hardest and strongest materials on Earth, it can carve through many materials with ease, but not to the extent of Durandal; Ridill instead focuses on the brute force aspect of power while Durandal focuses on the sharp edge aspect. It is because of Ridill's power that it can carve gashes into Gilgamesh's armor.**

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><p><strong>Well, I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, and I may have an idea for a future story where Roland becomes the Saber of the Fourth Holy Grail War, along with some other deviations. What would you guys think of that?<strong>

**I am also ditching the update every ten days I had going on. I'll be pushing it back to about two weeks between each update. Sorry, but that's the only way I'm going to manage to keep updating this. **

**Also, since nearly a month ago, when I first published this story, I have had 80 reviews, 235 Followers, 196 Favourites, it's featured in 1 community and over 8200 views! This is by far my most popular story! With the next chapter, if I can reach 100 reviews then I'm gonna hope to have a TvTropes page up. **

**A bit of an incentive, isn't it? And I promise, the person who gives the hundredth review will get a oneshot about something of their choice. So, get reviewing you guys! **


	5. Chapter 4: Knowledge is Power

**Chapter 4: Knowledge is Power**

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><p>Rider and Waver steadily made their way back to their abode on the Gordius Wheel, both of them silent as they were thinking over the events of the docks and the shocking revelations that had been brought to light at the same time.<p>

The night was crisp, but Rider was more occupied with the knowledge he had gained of his enemy's abilities. They were indeed strong foes, but he had a degree of strengths and weaknesses now. He wasn't known as the King of Conquerors for nothing you know. Lancer was a fast individual, as befitting his class; to wield dual spears was indeed such a craft that needed speed.

But such an advantage belied a disadvantage as well; if struck, Lancer would be fragile. If he were struck by a hammer, or a blunt object instead of slashed at by a blade then Lancer would not be able to withstand the blow very well, disorienting him enough so that Rider could win. He was confident in the Gordius Wheel's speed, which would likely allow him to out-speed Lancer, if possible.

Saber was fast and strong, and he had no doubt that Lancer had given them all a chance by wounding her. It was something of a sour note, that Rider would not fight Saber at her full strength but it was necessary for him to win and come back to life. Her swordsmanship was exceptional, which was shown by her ability to match Lancer despite the range granted to the latter.

Her Noble Phantasm involved a sword, that much was for certain, but it was most likely locked now. As King Arthur, Excalibur was clearly that sheathed sword, and he was glad that there was a good chance he would not encounter it at all. Of course, Rider would have to prepare for the possibility he did indeed come against it.

Archer...that Servant greatly interested him. His pride and ego reminded Rider of his own younger years, when he had been so much more boisterous than he was now, if possible to imagine. That he could use so many weapons as projectiles similarly made him the greatest foe that Rider would face. Those projectiles had been faster than he could possibly see, but then there had been Avenger who had broken that assessment.

They had reached the place that they were using as a shelter for the duration of the War, and Rider recalled watching the bonds grow between the boy and those kind old people. He felt a twinge of some irritation that they were hypnotized, and thus those bonds falsified, but it was necessary. Though Rider was prideful, even he knew that some things had to be done in order to win.

It didn't mean he had to like it though. Not one bit.

Wordlessly, he opened the window to Waver's bedroom, and as he fitted his large form into it he took note of the disposition of the boy. He collapsed on the bed, looking worse for wear. Someone wanting him to die would do that to a person. But Waver was silent, though there were streams of tears falling on his face, and for not the first time he felt pity for the boy.

It had been his mistake that had led him to compete in the Grail War, but Rider had grown up with the philosophy that mistakes help people grow and better their previous selves. He himself was no exception, though he preferred not to think of those days when he had not been so wise as he was now.

Waver, meanwhile, was not only thinking of Kayneth's declaration that he would be the one to kill him, but the frightful ease with which Avenger had wounded Archer. Despite his hysteria, Waver had been immensely shocked, as many of those present had been, when Avenger had effectively megaton-punched Archer, battered his armor with those weird swords, and come closer than any other Servant to killing the golden armored King.

In hindsight, Waver wondered if Archer would cover up his face with a helmet, since it was such an exposed spot and thus a weakness. Really, Archer's overwhelming power had stopped Waver from noticing that detail until he had seen it with his own eyes. And now he had _two _Servants to be afraid of.

Archer, the one with a literal library of Noble Phantasms, and Avenger who could recreate his own. God, why had he been such an idiot to enter this damn war? _Why?_ He was going to die, wasn't he? It was just so obvious he was going to die, from Kayneth's threat or from a Servant eliminating him.

"Just why..." Waver muttered, but was increasingly aware of Rider listening to him. "Why was Avenger able to fight Archer on such even ground? It doesn't make any sense! Avenger was the weakest Servant in the last War, and Archer is clearly the strongest in this one!"

"Ah, you get to the crux of the matter right now." Rider said approvingly, smacking Waver's back in happiness that his Master was developing. Despite the fact Waver was now in pain from the pressure to his back. "Yes, I noticed it as well. Every Servant in this war has a counter available; it was as I saw when I first watched Lancer and Saber battle, before Avenger and Archer's duel."

"What do you mean?" Waver asked; each Servant had a counter? He honestly didn't understand what his crackpot Servant meant. He barely had any warning before Rider flicked him in the forehead, sending him flying back into the wall behind him.

"Don't be so idiotic boy!" Rider chastised, before he continued on his explanation, unaware of Waver's pain. "Lancer was able to wound Saber not because he was stronger, but because he was faster and very much more skilled; this is evident from the way he outsmarted her, while with her power she was able to wound him in turn several times."

"In a similar way, Avenger and Archer are the complete anti-theses of each other." Rider continued on, Waver listening intently. "Avenger can recreate his own weapons with but a thought, while Archer cannot do that, but has a stock of many Noble Phantasms at his disposal. It's quite clear to me that, from Avenger's performance tonight, he could very well defeat Archer, if he can recreate his Noble Phantasms at will."

Waver could see gears literally turning in his Servant's head, and decided to inquire as to his Servant's own thoughts. "Huh? What do you mean?"

"Well, originally I thought that Avenger's Noble Phantasms were those black and white swords of his; from my knowledge, they are married swords, meaning if one was thrown as long as its partner is held it will return. This was supported by how he managed to recreate them repeatedly, and why I thought he had been a Caster-they have a specific skill of forging magical items."

"That opinion changed when he used those gauntlets." Rider said straight, and Waver was unnerved by how serious he appeared to be. "Those gauntlets were Jarngreipr, the Noble Phantasms of Thor, the Norse God of Thunder. This means that Avenger can potentially create Noble Phantasms that were used by _gods. _What if he can recreate Zeus' lightning bolt or Hades' Helm of invisibility?"

The possibilities that Rider brought up made Waver cower in fear again. Those gauntlets must have been powerful Noble Phantasms in order to do that sort of damage, and if Avenger could create more of those kinds and type of weapons there was less of a chance of them winning the Grail War. Waver sunk to his knees in defeat on his admittedly comfy-albeit somewhat gained dishonestly-bed.

"Oh, I'm so out of my league!" Waver moaned, clutching his head as he recalled his mistakes, starting with his damn war. "God, why was I such an _idiot_ to steal a relic from Kayneth el-Melloi Archibald? Everyone knew he had a temper, so why the hell did I do that?! The other Masters are just so much _better _than me-Tokiomi's probably a genius when it comes to magecraft-so what chance do I have to win? I should just give up."

Suddenly, Rider flicked him in the head again, causing yet another headache. Waver briefly rubbed the sore-spot before getting angry at Rider, who seemed indifferent. "Hey! What was that for, Rider?"

"Don't pity yourself so much, boy!" Rider roared. "Don't denounce your own virtues so much! You might think different, but not everything about you has caused you misery; you are better than you think!"

Waver blinked; this was the first genuine compliment that his Servant was giving him, so he was a little shocked at the out of the blueness of its delivery. Rider continued when he was certain that Waver was listening.

"If there's anything I've learned in my life, it is that while mistakes can become our greatest regrets, they can also be our greatest teachers! They teach us what not to do every time we make one, and because of our mistakes humanity can continue to grow better! In my honest opinion, boy, you are ten times the man that Melon lord was. Despite your cowardice, you decided to ride forth into battle with me. That shows your true courage!"

Waver was speechless at the true compliment his Servant had given him; it challenged the conceptions he had of his Servant's nature-he had thought him to be a brute, and a bully but the fact that he paid Waver such a compliment was welcomed; he had never really gained prestige or such during his Clock Tower days, so this was a nice break from the usual.

Waver smiled truly, before he gained a frown on his face as his Servant yawned and collapsed on the ground, apparently tired. What was Rider up to now? Waver's eyes widened in recognition; was he going to _sleep _now? Rider's next words proved him to be right.

"What are you gaping at me for, boy?" Rider asked, before turning on his side, closing his eyes and sekeing sleep. "I've tired myself out tonight, so be useful and don't wake me up."

Waver briefly debated the pros and cons of forcing Rider to stay in his astral state, before he realized it really didn't matter. Nothing short of a Command Seal would force his behemoth of a Servant to go into astral form and stop that drain on his reserves, but even Waver knew he'd end up a laughing stock if it came to light he wasted an absolute command on something trivial.

The protest died in his throat, before Waver grudgingly gave a good night and he himself turned off the light and fell asleep. The boy needed it, in Rider's opinion. Now, the King of Conquerors' mind turned towards that Avenger character, and how he had bested Archer. While Archer would have definitely won in time, Avenger gave him a run for his money.

Rider grinned when he thought of how well Avenger would do against the finest swordsmen and warriors in his army. That was truly a joyful thought. He had never seen such a rogue fighting style before, and he thought it exceptional that Avenger was able to fight and protect himself despite the apparent openings that the Servant created with that particular style.

It was clear he had created it himself, but that didn't concern Rider. He frowned as he remembered the one true fact of the War in this stage of its infancy; it was clear that Archer was the strongest Servant, and yet Avenger had damaged him far more than any had. Granted, all they could compare that to was Assassin who always turned out to be poor in close combat, but nevertheless Rider's thoughts were filled with this curious development.

Avenger was surely the key to defeating Archer, Rider was very much sure of that; his instincts agreed with him wholeheartedly. Perhaps it would bear some merit to seek an alliance with Avenger. Rider made a mental note to talk to the white-red haired Servant next they met, and he was indeed pleased as he thought of that possible alliance in the future.

* * *

><p>Lancer was kneeling dutifully to the side of his Master, who was more irate than usual as the wound in his arm was being bandaged by Sola-Ui. Truth be told, Lancer was sure that wound wasn't meant to be deadly; it was meant as a warning, and Lancer's hands clenched when he remembered Avenger's harsh words.<p>

"Ugh!" Kayneth hissed in pain, even as Sola-Ui rolled her eyes at the attitude of Kayneth. Even she noticed he was a bit of a baby when it came to handling wounds and being bandaged.

"Don't be so childish, Kayneth." Sola-Ui chastised him, making Kayneth even more irritated and angry. "Take it like a man. And it's clear it wasn't meant as a killing injury, so be thankful Avenger didn't kill you; he wanted to drive you off."

Kayneth became even more angry, and his angry gaze fell on his Servant who was bowing his head as he usually did. His useless Servant, who had failed to kill the Servant who had done this when he had had the chance to do so. His incompetence struck Kayneth the wrong way, and those spiteful words rolled off his tongue.

"Why did you not kill Avenger, Lancer?!" Kayneth demanded, even as Lancer bowed his head even more, increasing Kayneth's stress. "You had ample opportunity to kill him, so why didn't you?!"

"My first priority was getting you to safety, Master." Lancer answered dutifully, never meeting Kayneth's gaze. "I have sworn to protect you, and even if I wasn't your Servant I would have upheld that same oath."

Kayneth hissed in displeasure at Lancer's attitude. The Servant seemed to understand that his place was never questioning Kayneth, but despite that, the Archibald was more angry and spiteful than usual, no doubt thanks to how the night had gone off the rails relatively quickly and in a spectacular fashion.

"Well, why didn't you kill Saber on your second confrontation at the docks?" Kayneth was now venting his frustrations with his Servant's supposed incompetence and weakness, too angry to stop. "You had a perfect opportunity to drive your spear into her heart, but you went and made me waste one Command Seal to make you obey me. You're far less useful than I originally thought, Lancer."

The words struck Lancer deep, and he knew his Master had a point; Saber had been gaping at Avenger and Archer's battle, before arguing with his Master. He could have used Gae Buidhe to wound the two other Servants, but his sense of chivalry had stopped him from doing so. He felt bad for shaming his lord, but at the same time, deep inside his chest, the part of Diarmuid Ua Duibhne that had not submitted wondered why he should respect and obey Kayneth when Kayneth was not worth serving. This part of Lancer was born from his realization that Avenger's words perhaps held the inkling of truth.

"Honestly Kayneth, stop being so petulant and think of the bigger picture here." Sola-Ui said scathingly, bringing Kayneth to heel once more. "Lancer managed to inflict a wound that cannot heal on Saber, so he can kill her at his leisure. We've also gained valuable intelligence about the abilities of the other Servants. But I have to say, I am surprised at Avenger's capabilities; they remind me a lot of Projection."

Projection, Kayneth mused, was a magecraft that materialized objects in accordance to the caster's imagination through expenditure of prana. One of its characteristics was that the created object faded out of existence slowly. But of course, that didn't matter. Projection was an incomplete and useless magecraft, used by novices to get them used to such magecraft.

"It doesn't matter; Projection or not, Avenger does not truly change anything, nor does it matter yet. Avenger was a weak Servant in the last War, and undoubtedly he will fall soon enough in this one." Kayneth said derisively, the wound now fully bandaged, before he turned on the television. Lancer watched out of the corner of his eye as well.

"Bring me Saber's head the next time you two engage each other, Lancer." Kayneth said with a bored tone, though there was irritation underneath it. "I will not tolerate you dragging my name through the dirt."

For a brief moment, Lancer debated whether or not he could take Saber's head the next time they dueled. It was definitely possible, but what bothered Lancer was that, deep down, he _didn't _want to kill her just yet. It was a novelty and one of the benefits of being summoned that they had met individuals like them, and Lancer would like to fight Saber a few more times before either falling or killing her.

"Of course, Master. Your wish is my command." Lancer said dutifully, still very much aware of the discomfort that was gradually spreading through his mind. Kayneth said nothing, merely watching that electronic contraption.

"_I didn't think that Diarmuid Ua Duibhne would obey a Master like that. I didn't think that he would obey a Master like that without questioning him. I thought he was more noble than to automatically submit himself to such a Master. I guess I was mistaken."_

Lancer gritted his teeth, with his face turned downwards so that his Master wouldn't see such a spectacle. Lancer became internally angry, not because he and his Master had been insulted but because Avenger _had been right. _Even in his past life, his old lord before that debacle had encouraged Lancer to speak up if he had any misgivings. Since Lancer had failed so gravely in his last life, he thought it the least he could do by obeying his Master without question.

But to threaten a boy who was barely into adulthood...Lancer felt the stirrings of nobility and his old resolve spark up again when he thought of it. He had always had a streak towards protecting children as all good knights did, but he was obeying Kayneth without question, and if told to he would kill the boy. A Command Seal wouldn't be forced; Lancer would have to do it under his own will.

That made everything just so very _wrong. _It shouldn't be like this, where a man who was a master mage threaten children with torture. On one hand, Lancer wanted to shake his Master by the collar and ask him why he would do such a thing, while on the other hand Lancer wanted to obey his Master without question.

It was beyond frustrating; it was maddening on how his separate oaths contradicted and came into conflict with one another. It was only when the report came on the television about children who were being kidnapped, and whose bodies later turned up so mutilated that some other measures of identifying them were needed.

Lancer and his Master had been aware of the killings, which had started the same night that the Servants had been summoned, since they began, but since Kayneth had made no comment on it except a grimace Lancer had not seen fit to interrupt or offer his opinion. Yet, that vow of obedience was being sorely tested by this loathsome news. No normal human could commit such crimes, no normal human could come up with the _creativity_; that led Lancer to suspect that Caster was involved in this somehow.

It made sense; many Casters had been involved in the blackest arts, and though none had existed during Lancer's time he had still heard rumors of ones who had long passed through this world, through natural death or by the vengeance heaped upon them by the relatives of those killed and mutilated.

"My God..." Sola-Ui whispered in horror, and Kayneth gave her a look that clearly showed his concern for the woman he loved. "This person is a monster. Who could even _think _to do such things?"

"To me, it appears that Caster may be involved." Kayneth was surprised for a moment, raising an eyebrow at Lancer speaking out of term. It was highly unusual. Lancer's eyes were focused on the broadcast now. "Only the darkest arts require the human sacrifices of children, and only a Caster could put the corpses on display in such a way."

The two became increasingly aware that Lancer was angry; the jovial and laidback face he usually had on him was contorted in anger, tightened by rage, and his hands were grasping his spears tightly. Kayneth had to admit, Lancer was a little frightening when he was angry like this; it was at a time like this that the Archibald became aware of why Lancer had been the First Knight of Fianna when alive.

"This doesn't matter at the moment; as long as the Holy Grail War is continued I don't care." Kayneth's harsh words buzzed through Lancer's mind, which was shocked at the bluntness and the cruelty. "Our top priority is Saber, we can take care of Caster after we kill her off."

Lancer couldn't take the ease with which Kayneth condemned these children anymore. Caster was a monster, and they should be focusing on the spell-caster first. Couldn't Kayneth see that was the right, the moral, thing to do? He understood that Kayneth wanted Saber out of the game as soon as possible, but all the same...

"_I didn't think that Diarmuid Ua Duibhne would obey a Master like that. I didn't think that he would obey a Master like that without questioning him. I thought he was more noble than to automatically submit himself to such a Master. I guess I was mistaken."_

"Master, why do you insist on leaving children to be the prey of this monster?" Lancer questioning Kayneth shocked all in the room, especially Lancer. But he couldn't stop now. "Why do you forsake people to this fate, so that you can finish a wounded opponent?"

"A mere Servant couldn't understand my thoughts." Kayneth said haughtily, and Lancer could _feel _irritation and frustration bleed into the rest of his body. It was uncharacteristic of him, but he wanted his Master to understand. "Caster will be dealt with by the other Masters; there is no reason to involve ourselves in the manhunt. Besides, fighting filth like that is below me."

Kayneth's words made Lancer angry, but also worried. The fact that his Master was narcissistic, only thinking of himself and how his pride would be tarnished if he lowered himself to help the Masters kill Caster was overwhelming, as well as pitiable. Lancer had seen such men during his life, but they had always lost the things they had cherished most when people had rebelled against their tyrannical rule.

Lancer had condoned such people in life, but as a Servant he had sworn to serve this man, despite his faults and failings. Lancer knew he was a hypocrite right now, but...if defying his oath, his sacred vow, meant saving those children and stopping Caster from continuing these horrific murders in one fell blow then he would gladly accept the title of 'hypocrite'.

"No."

Lancer's single word answer surprised all, and Lancer himself was tempted to take it back, but he would not; he could not. Not when his duty as a knight and a moral person bade him to speak on behalf of those murdered and those that would also be killed by Caster if he did not intervene.

"What do you mean, Lancer?" Kayneth asked, fury beginning to claw its way back into his mind. "What are you talking about?"

"We will not go after Saber, Master." Lancer said, and they were surprised at the steel-edged tone of Lancer's voice. This was different to the way Lancer had been before. "We will find Caster, we will kill him or her, and we will stop this madness. We WILL do the right thing, and kill Caster so that these massacres do not happen again."

Kayneth was stunned, before he sneered at Lancer. Now his Servant was showing his true colors, but he would have thought those long oaths would have meant something to that Irish dog. It seemed that Lancer was a wolf in sheep's clothing; acting obedient before biting at you.

"How dare you disobey me, Servant!" Kayneth roared furiously, unaware that Sola-Ui was giving him a reproachful glance. "I bring you into this world so that you can fight for me, I grant you a wish, yet despite your oaths of fealty to me you choose to disobey me?! Truly, the Irish are complete hypocrites!"

The words hurt Lancer deeply; Irishmen and women had always taken pride in themselves, and Kayneth was trampling over that. But he wouldn't back down. He might have once before, but back then Caster hadn't been involved-nor had children been involved in any way, shape or form.

"Yes, I am a hypocrite, Master." Lancer freely admitted his hypocrisy, choosing not to wipe it away. Honesty was the best policy after all. "But when children are involved, in gruesome ways like this, I am willing to disobey my orders. I understand if you want to use a Command Seal to force me to do otherwise, but that command is one I will _fight. _Caster deserves to die for these crimes, and I will damn myself to hell if I allow children to die when I have the power to stop it."

There was silence after his Servant chose to defy him. Kayneth's anger was slow to ignite in the face of this betrayal, but when it began to show its true colors he began to get even more angry than he had been a few moments ago. His Servant was defying him; and on top of the disappointing fight tonight Kayneth was very nearly at his limit.

He was just about to verbally lash Lancer when Sola-Ui's own comments about the murders came back to his mind. She had said they were disgusting, which implied that she was moral enough to despise such practices. Kayneth did too, as any reasonable mage did, but he put himself above those who were threatened regularly. However...

Despite the care and love he had tried to give to Sola-Ui, she had never reciprocated, never even congratulated him or gave him a compliment. The merits of this decision he was making began to weigh themselves in his mind before he decided. He relaxed, which seemed to unnerve the other two in the room, but Kayneth decided to go along with Lancer's plan for now. After all, it would keep that dog docile, as well as potentially earning him Sola-Ui's affections. He would win both ways.

Plus it was true that they could take Saber out later; he had merely prioritized her as she had been proven to be the strongest somewhat, and her legends and possible Noble Phantasms gave Kayneth no small amount of worry. Anyway, it would be beneficial to keep Saber wounded for now, and not end this too soon. A wounded opponent could still be executed later.

"It pains me to admit as much to a Servant but I suppose you are right in this, Lancer." Kayneth begrudgingly admitted, to the surprise of his betrothed and his Servant. "As a respectable magus, it is only right that I put my duty of eliminating Caster above the Holy Grail. But be warned, Lancer; I won't make a habit of taking notice of your concerns. Remember that."

Lancer was speechless at how his Master had suddenly changed his tract; he had pegged his Master down as a person who did not bend to the will of others, and instead sought to subjugate other people under his own will. As Kayneth got up, Lancer did too and smiled.

"You're a man of good character, Master." Lancer said out of the blue, giving Kayneth a brief pause. "Despite your more sadistic ways, the fact we're going to take Caster down shows just how much of a good man you are."

That was certainly unexpected; Kayneth had expected Lancer to stay quiet. Yet, he could see merit in the words of his Servant-he might be doing it for selfish reasons, but ultimately Kayneth did want Caster out of the game so that the Holy Grail War wasn't plagued by the deaths and murders of innocents; Kayneth himself maintained that thinking process, even if he was mostly smug. Waver was an exception to this rule, since he HAD legitimately stolen from Kayneth.

But, this was the first time he had been complimented by Lancer, who had generally stayed quiet unless he was preaching some sort of medieval chivalry drabble. Nonetheless, the fact his Servant complimented him on this issue gave Kayneth food for thought. Maybe his Servant wasn't so useless after all.

"Let us be going, Lancer." Kayneth said to his Servant, who nodded downwards to indicate that he understood Kayneth's instructions. "We will be leaving in five minutes."

Two minutes later, the Fuyuki Hotel was bombed, courtesy of one Kiritsugu Emiya.

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, in the Fuyuki Church that was situated near the middle of the great city, Gilgamesh was waiting patiently for Kirei Kotomine to finish his report to his Master, Tokiomi. Gilgamesh frowned as he sipped the delicious red wine he had found in this cellar; Tokiomi was such a dull and boring man, while everyone ELSE was so much more interesting than the red clothed man. He would admit that Tokiomi had a sense of style, and his wine wasn't bad, but overall Gilgamesh was displeased to have him as his Master.<p>

His cheek twitched, and Gilgamesh was filled with the cold fury he had seldom felt before. That had been the spot where that mongrel had struck him, and had caused him a greater injury than anyone else for over thousands of years since he had truly been alive. The person who had come closest before had been _him, _the one true friend Gilgamesh had ever had.

That mongrel-Avenger-had dared to harm his visage, and Gilgamesh swore to himself that the mongrel would learn his place when they next fought. He had given the warning to the other Servants-Avenger was his to kill and his alone. Avenger was the only foe Gilgamesh would fight against with all his power, if only to show that worm had futile it was and how idiotic it was to harm him.

His hand clenched around the wine glass, and it was only when Gilgamesh brought himself out of that cesspool of anger and hatred that he relaxed his grip; the wine glass naturally fit into his hands, and it would not be becoming of him, the greatest King, to break an instrument that had been made to give pleasure.

Gilgamesh was not that petty.

However, Gilgamesh had always given credit where credit was due; Avenger was the one person to give him such an injury over the time since Gilgamesh had died; the red-clothed Servant had to be very courageous to attack his handsome face where the other Servants had not even bothered to try. Gilgamesh, of course, was happy that they were cowed by his presence, and he himself was greatly angered by how Avenger had refused to bow.

Such a strike could not be forgiven, he decided. It was only natural; to strike the visage of the King of Heroes was to practically sign your own death sentence. He also remembered the conversation that went on when Tokiomi had recalled him from paying Avenger such a punishment. He had raged at the boring man, who tried to placate him but Gilgamesh hadn't allowed it. Tokiomi only praised him and tried to stop him; why didn't he see that as the King of Heroes Gilgamesh had the right to do what he liked?

He had nearly unleashed the Gate of Babylon on the Tohsaka, before he had left; even Gilgamesh had to admit that if he killed Tokiomi then his link to this very pleasant time period would be lost, unless he managed to contract another magi. He was glad that his independence as King was given to him in the form of Independent Action, so he would be able to survive for a few days if Tokiomi was killed.

At this moment in time, Gilgamesh welcomed any who wanted to kill that man.

"The King should obey no one..." Gilgamesh muttered aloud, gracing the air with his harmonious voice. "To abide by the will of some lesser mongrel...how frustrating..."

He was dressed in his casual clothes, consisting of a shirt, pants and a golden necklace from his vault, and the King of Uruk twitched again as he remembered the ruinous state his armor had been left in when he had put it inside the Gate of Babylon, where it would gradually be repaired. He was so very irritated that Avenger was able to bring the one treasure Gilgamesh had permitted to defend his royal presence to the brink of destruction, and counter the storm of blades he had sent at him. Truly, Avenger was a tenacious opponent.

But, in the end, that was very interesting. No one else had defeated Gilgamesh's treasures like Avenger had; no one had wounded him like Avenger had, except his first friend. It was actually quite interesting, Gilgamesh decided, and if he hadn't sworn vengeance on the white-red haired Servant he most likely would have observed him for quite some time.

He would, however, keep an eye on Avenger anyway, not only so he could ascertain any further abilities Avenger had but also to make sure no one killed the mutt. It was Gilgamesh's right alone; he would avenge himself of the great embarrassment that Avenger had wrecked upon him.

He was well aware of the pun in that statement.

"You will regret this trespass Avenger." Gilgamesh swore to the air, once again gracing it with his voice. "As the True King, I will make sure that your punishment is appropriate to striking my royal self."

In his mind's eye, Gilgamesh saw himself crushing Avenger utterly with the full amount of Noble Phantasms inside his Gate of Babylon. He smiled contently as he played the image back again in his mind. It gave him great pleasure to know that he was going to be the one to kill Avenger, in due time, and dispose of him in the same way as his vision. It was the one thought that kept Gilgamesh grounded instead of embracing his rage.

Almost as soon as the thought placated him, Kirei exited the door Gilgamesh was slouched across a sofa by. The man was dressed in priest robes, and his brown hair was unruly, his eyes similarly unfocused. Gilgamesh's opinion of Kirei was that the man had absolutely no desire whatsoever; he had been observing the man, and he had yet to ascertain why Kirei would have been chosen by the Grail. He smiled; it seemed today was his chance to sow the seeds.

"I must say Kirei, your wine is rather splendid." Gilgamesh commented, seeing Kirei watch him warily; not surprised, as expected of an Executor of the Church. "Your wine might be less in stock than Tokiomi's, but its quality is much better. I must say, Tokiomi was quite right when he called you a prodigy."

Kirei's stance tightened with tension, as if he expected Gilgamesh to make some sort of violent gesture towards him. Gilgamesh smiled like a snake at the priest; he had very much wanted to probe Kirei's mind since he had become interested in him, and it seemed today would be his chance to satisfy his curiosity for a while.

"Are you bored, Kirei?" Gilgamesh asked, and Kirei's eyebrows furrowed at the question that was being posed to him.

"What do you mean by that, Archer?" Kirei asked the King of Heroes, who was carefully gauging Kirei's responses and reactions. So far, nothing of particular interest seemed to crop up. Gilgamesh would just have to try harder.

"You have much time on your hands lately, Kirei. That is all I meant." Gilgamesh replied, taking another sip, his trademark smirk on his face. "Like myself, so be glad I am paying you such a compliment by comparing you to me."

Kirei seemed to think on something, before he asked Gilgamesh a question that made the King of Heroes' attitude dim a little. "Does that mean you are unsatisfied with your situation in the Holy Grail War so far? If you have so much spare time, then surely you can spend it pursuing other notions."

Gilgamesh became slightly angry as he considered Kirei's question. He was _interested _in this time period; his favorite past-times were observing people as well as drinking wine, but he was not happy with his situation in the Grail War so far, nor would he expend unnecessary energy fixing that solution. Gilgamesh would freely admit he was pathetically lazy unless something caught his interest, but even now he was very displeased with his Master.

"I am not very satisfied in my situation this early in the Grail War, though I find myself intrigued by this time period. This is a credit to you humans; you interest me greatly in the time that has passed since my own age, so be pleased by the compliment. However, Tokomi displeases me, and my humiliation by that mutt hasn't helped matters."

"Tokiomi is very boring, Kirei; he is the kind of man I intensely dislike since he is hardly interesting; all he does is stay in his study, drinking that excellent wine of his, and do nothing whatsoever." Gilgamesh continued, aware that Kirei was beginning to relax. "Even his reasons for fighting in the Grail War are boring to me; he seeks something that will never be trumped, when the best rewards are those that can be beaten by something else. It provides motivation, as well as increasing interest. He hardly deserves me as his Servant."

"The motivation for competing in this War is to seek the Root is somewhat dull to me, who has sampled all the pleasures of the world and have found none lacking in their interest and splendor." Gilgamesh continued his soliloquy, mindful of Kirei's reactions. "I have better things to do than fruitlessly follow this quest."

The fact that Tokiomi was seeking something that was 'impossible' by the standards of those alive, and that it was such a lofty quest reminded Gilgamesh of that ill-fated quest for immortality, to revive his precious friend. It was partly because of the disastrous ending to that particular quest that Gilgamesh found Tokiomi's dull, and so very pointless. Gilgamesh had forsaken all quests, if only because he failed his.

The King of Uruk also happened to be something of a spoiled sport. Who knew?

"Seeking the Root is the goal of all magi, and those that don't share the same desire shouldn't comment on it." Kirei told Gilgamesh, which made the King pay attention to Kirei. From all of his observations, the priest didn't share that same desire as Tokiomi, as if he did then surely he would have decried his position of obedience and being Tokiomi's underling. Very interesting.

"Reaching the Root essentially means seeking to escape this world and leave it behind. People who are only interested in THIS world would find it tedious." Kirei finished his speech, and Gilgamesh thought he could see stars and galaxies inside of his wine glass.

"Yes, I quite agree with that statement, Kirei. This universe is my only kingdom, and I have no interest in quests that will never succeed, or different worlds." Gilgamesh said his piece, and the King really couldn't care less now that he knew the extent of what seeking the Root meant.

He had only one limitation; himself. Even in all of his treasures, Gilgamesh had not a single one that could allow inter-dimensional travel, so he contented himself with this one instead. So far, it had given him no reason to complain, other than the boorish people but there had been boorish people even in Uruk, the city graced with his presence. But the fact humans would choose to abandon this world irked him.

"I wonder, have your own experiences colored your attitude toward such things?" Kirei wondered aloud, before Gilgamesh stopped smiling, and fixed him with a cold glare that spoke of the foolishness of the priest. Perhaps Kirei had insulted him to protect Tokiomi, and protecting his master's honor was something Gilgamesh did not necessarily condemn, but it was annoying.

He said nothing as he thought back on those quests with Enkidu. Their first meeting, that first time he had used his Gate of Babylon without even feeling fear, using it with reckless abandon. The revelations of Enkidu's purpose and how his friend died as he became clay once more. Then there was the madness, before clarity came at times.

You could say that Enkidu helped mold Gilgamesh into the man he was today. His friend wouldn't exactly be comforted by the thought.

"I'm actually quite curious, Kirei. What is it that you seek?" Gilgamesh inquired, and even though Kirei was surprised he said nothing. "As I understand, the Masters chosen by the Holy Grail must have some wish that requires its omnipotence or power."

Gilgamesh actually was more irritated than angry at the Holy Grail for this reason; as he was the greatest Hero and Warrior that had ever graced this world, only he should decide whether or not the world gets altered, not some (probably) false wish granting device. Gilgamesh had long ago claimed the world as his playground, and only he would change it as he saw fit.

"But I'm curious also, Kirei. Do the other Masters have other motives than seeking the Root?" Gilgamesh asked, genuinely curious once more. The Root was such a boring goal, the other Masters had to be less boring than seeking an impossible dream.

"It is possible, and more than likely in any case." Kirei replied dutifully, and Gilgamesh took another sip of wine in satisfaction. "The other Masters most likely seek prestige and power for their reward in winning the Holy Grail."

"Well, that suits me perfectly fine, then." Gilgamesh smiled, looking into his glass again and imagining the faces of the other Masters. "Power, prestige, money. All of it I endorse, and all of those things I possess. I truly wish I had been summoned by those other Masters, rather than Tokiomi."

"Well, what motivates you, Kirei?" Gilgamesh posed the question, quite sure that for Kirei motivation and what he sought were connected. "As I said before, the Grail chooses Masters that have wishes, and have motivations that are powerful enough above all others for the Grail to pick them."

"I...do not possess desires, or anything like that that normal humans want." Kirei answered dutifully, and Gilgamesh began to get an approximation of Kirei, reading his soul through those vision-less eyes.

"Well, why don't you ask for joy? Surely that would be a good wish for you."

Kirei blinked, before he got angry to Gilgamesh's surprise. It seemed that this priest was infinitely more interesting than he originally thought. "Joy? Why would I wish for something so sinful?"

"May I ask why you associate joy with sin?" Gilgamesh answered Kirei's question with a question, taking the former Executor off guard. "I admit, joy can be considered sinful if it is obtained through evil means. Your philosophy is ludicrous, since joy can also be obtained through good deeds. Have you ever tried that?"

Kirei's stunned reaction told Gilgamesh all he needed to know, and he prepared his glass, filling it with that delicious wine once more. "Of course, you've probably never found joy in anything, right Kirei? I find that notion very wasteful, as all beings should have joy, and since I have proclaimed that this world and all on it are my possessions by right of my power, I can give you the order to find joy. But this really doesn't explain anything. Please, sit down."

Kirei sat down uncertainly, but he sat down nonetheless. Gilgamesh continued to fill his glass until it was full again, and gave Kirei a disarming smile. To his mild surprise, it didn't seem to really have any effect on the stoic priest. He was still so full of tension that Gilgamesh thought he would break like a twig.

"True joy is a form of the soul, and since you haven't experienced true joy, Kirei, your soul is incomplete and you yourself cannot comprehend it." Gilgamesh explained, and was satisfied as understanding bloomed on Kirei's face. "You will find joy if you understand your soul. The other Masters might help you in this regard; I'd suggest finding out what the other Masters find joy in, and see if you react to their activities like you do."

Kirei seemed to ponder the merits of this decision, and Gilgamesh gave a concealed smirk as he now knew that Kirei would take the bait. He could tell that Kirei's true character contained something vicious and dangerous, but Gilgamesh all the same decided to help Kirei find happiness. It might not be the best for the world, but if he could help one wayward soul in finding happiness, Gilgamesh might almost think that he was being a good guy.

But then again, even good men show weakness and can show great hatred and anger, while evil men can show compassion and do good deeds every once in a while. Gilgamesh held no illusions about himself; he was categorized as an 'evil' man, but the concept of morality truly didn't matter to him. He did what he wanted and took what he wanted, that was all there was to it.

"It might be possible to arrange the Assassins to do such a thing, but it will take time." Kirei pondered, before turning his attention back to the smirking Servant. "But why help me? What possible advantage could you get from this?"

Gilgamesh flashed a fake smile, hoping to use his Charisma stat to somewhat get Kirei to relax, but to no avail. "Humans entertain me with their motivations, their behaviours, their secrets. And to find one that does not seem to show anything or know anything of those things truly interests me Kirei; I have never met such a unique individual. I simply want to help you find joy. I know it is terribly cliche, but follow what your soul tells you; it might lead to the answers you want."

"You can forward the information you gather from the Assassins to me in person." Gilgamesh continued, before a cruel smile graced his face. "But any information that you gather on Avenger is to be given straight to me. That dog insulted me and it is my royal duty to find out as much about that Avenger as possible, so that when the time comes for me to crush him into the ground like the insect he is, I will be able to at least understand him and his motivations."

His piece done, Gilgamesh faded in golden motes, going back to the Tohsaka Manor. He gave one last look at Kirei, before smirking at the wayward priest, and was reassured that he had picked the right man to investigate.

Kirei Kotomine was _very _interesting, indeed.

* * *

><p>Kiritsugu Emiya, the Magus Killer, watched the Fuyuki Hotel building blow up in a fiery ball of destruction, caused by the explosives he had stored at the key points in the building's supports.<p>

He felt a grim satisfaction flow through his body, and he lit a cigarette as he began walking away from the scene of the crime. He heard sirens, and once again was confronted with the fact that he had grown soft over the years he had spent at the Einzbern castle, raising Illya and being married to Iri.

Years ago, when he had been the Magus Killer, he would have done this act without any remorse, without any moral dilemma. He would have done it because it benefited him to do so. Kayneth el-Melloi had been the opponent he had wanted to get rid of since Saber had been wounded by that spear.

He briefly thought back on the Archibald. There was no question that he was brilliant, but like all magus' he was extremely arrogant. He had thought that traditional magus' would brave, or at least try to, his elaborate traps that even Kiritsugu, a master at defeating those sorts of measures, balked at. Luckily, he was no ordinary magus.

He was a magus without pride.

Even for all his brilliance, Kiritsugu mused as he continued to smoke absentmindedly as he made his way through the throngs of distressed civilians and the chaos of the scene, the ambulances and the relief workers running past him, even Kayneth could not survive a one hundred and fifty meter drop. There were certainly ways to do so, but since he caught Kayneth by surprise there was little reason to think otherwise.

With Lancer now out of the way, the wound Saber sustained should be healed in a short while, and she should be up to her optimum strength once again, and thus kill the other Servants. He frowned on the disappointment the knight had presented to him. He had thought King Arthur was a powerful knight, as Old Acht himself had proclaimed when bestowing Avalon on him and Iri. Instead, she had lived up to her knight's code, failing to kill Lancer and declaring her identity.

Her 'chivalry' was simply glorifying war, and Kiritsugu hated war above anything else. He had always hated warmongers, as he had continuously fought in conflicts to stop them escalating. Men, women, children...he killed them all so that the wars would stop. All in his bid to save the world and to stop all conflict.

He didn't even see the futility in such a beautiful ideal and deadly dream. At least, not yet.

They were too incompatible; that had always been clear when Kiritsugu had researched King Arthur, or rather Arturia now. He had left her as Iri's Servant, while he dealt with the Masters from the shadows. No doubt Saber would decry him for such an act, but he didn't care about war's champion. Nevertheless, he was extremely disappointed in her supposed skill, and his thoughts turned back to the other Servants, and the battle at the docks.

He had to admit, Archer was probably the single most dangerous Servant of the War. Not from how he had utterly decimated Assassin in the video he had had Maiya record-it was always guaranteed that Assassin would be defeated by other Servants just as easily-, but those Noble Phantasms from that invisible gate of his. Kiritsugu's eyes narrowed.

Noble Phantasms they had to be, because of that destructive power they packed. He had thought he recognized Durandal, the Peerless Sword, but that was impossible. Only Roland could have that sword as a Noble Phantasm; how did that golden armored Servant get it if that was the case?

Archer was thankfully limited by his pride and arrogance, and Kiritsugu felt his hopes somewhat spark again. They had dimmed in the display of Archer's real power, but they had a good chance if Archer remained the way he was; prideful, and extremely arrogant. Kiritsugu distantly mused that Archer suited Tokiomi's own personality, from the research he had done on the man. Most likely, Tokiomi was limiting Archer, stopping him to flaunt his power, as if declaring that the Grail would be won by a Tohsaka.

Kiritsugu would never let that happen. For his impossible dream, he needed the power of the Grail. Archer, if not limited by that arrogance, would be capable of killing everyone else that participated in the war with a flick of a finger. Thus, Kiritsugu had to find a way to even the playing fields. No ideas came to him at that moment, so he shelved it and focused on his previous line of thought.

Alexander the Great...he was one of the Servants Kiritsugu was wary of. Naturally, since he had conquered a great deal of the world back in his time, and the rumours and knowledge that he had been quite the tactician were never disputed. That meant that underneath the silliness that Kiritsugu had seen at the docks, there was a keen mind. No doubt he was already analyzing the battle at the docks and using it to his own advantage.

Kiritsugu wouldn't have minded him as a Servant; he could appreciate the intelligent man. However, Alexander had been foolish enough to declare his name and identity; a difference from the myths Kiritsugu had read about, but he had learned that when it came to the Grail War and Servants, everything must be questioned. It was now a simple process to research the strengths and weaknesses of Rider, though...

Kiritsugu was given pause. That chariot that Rider rode...it was undoubtedly fast, since it had arrived and departed in lightning. That could cause a problem, especially for Saber or other Servants; he could quite literally out-run them if he could. However, Rider didn't seem like the kind of person to run away, even though it would be advantageous to do so. Kiritsugu allowed himself a smile; truly, the pride of Rider would be his downfall.

Rider himself would be hard to defeat, but all Kiritsugu would have to do is kill his Master with a single bullet from a replacement sniper rifle. All he had to do was find Waver Valvet, bring out his Thompson and unload a bullet into his forehead if he caught him by surprise. It was simple logistics and logic; Masters kept Servants materialized, thus a Master like himself-pragmatic, cold and rational-would take advantage of this rule.

The thought of killing Waver soured Kiritsugu's mood, and it brought him back to the docks, as he remembered just how easily Avenger was able to destroy his sniper rifle with the custom modifications specifically to hunt magi. He frowned as he remembered it was only his quick reflexes and a liberal use of Time Alter that allowed him to get away with only a scratch. Looking back, though, it seemed to Kiritsugu that Avenger hadn't meant to literally disarm him or kill him, only drive him off.

He had to admit, he hadn't expected Avenger to be able to break his rifle from such a range as well as lecture him. He had expected the range to be an issue for anyone other than an Archer, but clearly his expectations of Avenger were off. Kiritsugu's 'Magus Killer' persona asserted itself, and he began to analyze Avenger thoroughly.

Avenger was probably the only Servant capable of defeating Archer in a straight up fight, from what he saw of Avenger recreating those broken Noble Phantasms of his, and the ease with which he had fought Archer suggested that he was a master swordsman. But it was also clear that Archer had been beating him back with sheer strength; he himself had seen Avenger's stats, and saw that he made up for strength with skill. An admirable trait in a warrior.

But he was frustrated by those gauntlets he had summoned. Jarngreipr was the Noble Phantasm of the god Thor, king of lightning and a member of the Norse mythologies. Kiritsugu's mouth gained a bad taste to it; how had Avenger used Noble Phantasms that belonged to a different god? Unless Avenger was Thor-which he doubted, those black and white swords had been clearly Chinese in origin and craft, at least.

"That Servant is very troublesome..." Kiritsugu muttered, sighing as he continued to walk. He thought back on the lecture that Avenger gave him, and he felt an emotion he hadn't felt in a long time; guilt, or something resembling it. No, he was uncomfortable with what Avenger had posed to him.

Kiritsugu's answer was what his philosophy was; if he had to kill a child to save hundreds of people, he would sacrifice the child without regrets. He felt a strange feeling in his chest; as if something was trying to break free of the bony prison of his ribs, and he was given pause.

Guilt. That was the feeling, but _why _he was feeling it was unknown to Kiritsugu at this moment in time; ever since _that _day, he had lived his life on the principle and ideal of sacrificing one to save ten mentality, so it was confusing and irritating to suddenly become aware of doubts he had, of those long-forgotten questions he had continuously asked himself. He had also buried that memory of _her _deep down, because he was aware she would be scared of him.

He decided he was unnerved by Avenger, because some of the Servant's mannerisms in combat reflected that of Kiritsugu himself; pragmatism by attacking Archer's weakpoint, as well as taking advantage of the element of surprise with Jarngreipr. For some reason, it troubled Kiritsugu to see someone other than him act that way, for reasons he couldn't fathom.

Suddenly, he heard the crying of a girl, and he turned slightly. She was about two or three years of age, and wearing nightclothes as well as a jacket that was too large for her. Briefly he caught a glimpse of amber eyes, and he was curious for a moment before quashing it; he had never seen anyone with amber eyes before, but then again the world was a wide and varied place.

He wondered why she was crying, before he realized that her tears were directed at the building, and he came to the conclusion that she had either been separated from her family or one had been caught in the bombing and was waiting. Regardless, he didn't regret causing the child pain; it had been necessary for him to step closer towards the Grail, and the completion of that dream he had held for so long. However, she reminded him of Illya at that age, when she had cried when she didn't get her way. That comparison inspired feelings of self-loathing inside Kiritsugu, which the Magus Killer hated.

He walked out of the earshot of the girl, and thus was unaware of the next few sequences of interactions between her and a boy that walked up to her, past Kiritsugu in fact. He was about eight years old, and had vibrant red hair with the same amber eyes of the girl. It was clear he was her older brother, and he turned to the kindly lady he had left her with when he had ventured closer towards the hotel in search of their parents.

"Thank you miss!" The boy said politely, and the woman smiled back, saying that it was no problem at all. The boy turned to his sister, and quickly caught her attention by hugging her briefly.

"Miyu, mom got out alright; I just checked." The boy reassured her, and she suddenly wasn't crying anymore, instead hugging the boy, which he didn't seem to dislike. Indeed, he seemed to like the attention, the pleasure of making his sister not upset anymore.

"Shirou! Shirou!" Miyu said in the slurring tone of a baby, and Shirou quickly picked her up by her stubby arm, and led her towards the red haired woman that was waiting for them a little distance away.

Their mother picked up Miyu, who giggled as she hugged her mother close to her, though it was more that their mother was trying to reassure Miyu that they wouldn't be separated again. Shirou himself hugged his mother's leg briefly, before letting go. Their father was waiting some distance away, having brought the kids to the scene of the bombing from their own apartment, which was only a short distance away.

Some might say it was irresponsible of the father, but Miyu had wanted to go; she was oddly perceptive for her age, which the mother thought was because of their genes. Their father, Daisuke, was quite the intelligent professor as well as maths expert, so it was possible that she was simply catching on to the atmosphere.

Shirou had went because Miyu had went, guarding her like he was her knight. It was an innate feeling inside Shirou, to protect his sister, and he had been scared to go down, scared of what they might find, but in the end their mother was safe. She had been staying in the hotel because she had wanted to keep an eye on a magus that had rented out the top floors, and she had survived because of her magecraft and the application of a little quick thinking. She had been hailed as a prodigy when she was younger, after all.

The mother looked back at the hotel in puzzlement, as well as suspicion. No normal magecraft would be able to collapse the building; she was fortunate that unlike the rest of the magus society she was well versed in 'mundane' equipment, such as explosives. She had deemed it necessary in order for her business to succeed; granted, mundane weaponry was ineffective against mages, but she had heard of the Magus Killer, and it had got her thinking.

Disregarding the thought, the mother decided that the family's stay in Fuyuki City was going to be a lot less peaceful than a week ago. But that didn't really matter at the moment.

The Aozaki family departed the chaotic scene, full of sympathy for those who had lost loved ones, and glad that they had not lost one of their own that frightening night.

* * *

><p>It took Avenger several minutes to get back to Kariya's position. His battle with Archer just a while ago had immensely sapped the strength out of him, and he was staggering to Kariya in his astral form, so that civilians and the uninitiated wouldn't see him. He panted as he placed a transparent hand on brick for support, and thought back on the encounter.<p>

Really, he should have been expecting that Archer would have had him outclassed in strength, even from the beginning. That suit of armor had given a hint that Archer was strong; that armor had added weight to the golden Servant's blows, and thus had caused more small injuries to Avenger than he would have liked.

But, at least he had an estimate of Archer's strength now, as well as those of the other Servants. Rider was really the only variable he didn't have any information on, since he hadn't participated in the battles, but the fact he knew now Rider's identity helped immensely. Already he was browsing over the information that was available to him in order to find weaknesses he could exploit.

That chariot was clearly something, and he couldn't completely copy it into his Reality Marble for a simple reason; he could not reproduce living animals, only weapons and the like. But, the incomplete report he had gotten from the chariot benefited him a little. It was fast, and used lightning in some way. Alexander the Great had been proclaimed to be a son of Zeus, so it wasn't farfetched that was why that chariot had used lightning and moved as fast as it.

But, thanks to the speed, it would not be able to corner well; it was a hope, even though Rider had most likely thought of it as he had been known as the King of Conquerors in life. But it gave Avenger something to build a plan on; if he could lure Rider into a narrow alleyway, or make sure that the great mobility that was afforded to him as a Rider class was negated, then he had a shot. He was contemplating shooting multiple Hrunting arrows at the chariot, which was relatively easy except that it would drain him far more than he wanted.

Though Beowulf's sword was a perfect projectile, it still had faults as did all his Tracing. Tracing multiple copies in a row of anything except Kanshou and Bakuya tired him out, and even as he thought that his 'bones' began to strain with the pressure of staying up. Adrenaline had kept him awake, alive and alert during his fight with Archer, but it was now he was feeling the full brunt of the drain.

Well, that was the problem with his fighting style, as well as EMIYA's; it relied on discarding Kanshou and Bakuya in rapid succession, and if they had to do that for a long battle they would begin to tire out. They had never been exceptional magi, nearly below average in fact. But it was through their own talents that they became exceptional.

He reached Kariya's position, and walked inside the stone building. Kariya was sitting cross-legged in a corner of the room, and he seemed to be cooking something. Avenger materialized, and he was sure he looked incredibly tired. Kariya looked at him, and smiled and waved at his Servant.

"Welcome back, Avenger. I've just been trying to cook." Kariya said in a light tone, satisfied with Avenger's triumph over Tokiomi's Servant via embarrassment, but then he took stock of Avenger's appearance, and concern lined his face.

"How are you Kariya?" Avenger asked, moving to the wall that was beside Kariya, leaning against it briefly, and looking at his Master.

"The Crest Worms are getting a little more agitated," Kariya informed his Servant, the sentence being punctuated by him coughing a little, before waving off Avenger's concern. "That's because they're reacting to the ones that are dying."

Avenger knew that Kariya most likely knew his body better than Avenger would, but he decided to play on the safe side. His eyes lit up grey for a moment as he performed Structural Grasping on Kariya. True to form, the Worms were indeed dying off slowly, and the slowness was because of Caduceus' reduced Rank and modified attributes that let it stay in the material world. Satisfied with his analysis, Avenger groaned as he collapsed against the wall, sliding down and letting the bruises and aches from his fight with Archer come to the forefront.

"Are you alright?" Kariya asked his Servant in concern. Despite the relatively short time they had spent as a duo, Kariya reciprocated Avenger's kindness for him in turn.

"The fight with Archer...tired me out a lot." Avenger explained, breathing heavily out of exhaustion. It probably hadn't helped that he had to keep Caduceus manifested through a permanent slice-off of his reserves, but he didn't care about that. "It'll take me a while to get back up to battle strength again."

"Take all the time you need," Kariya reassured Avenger, who looked at him now. "Since you humiliated Tokiomi and Archer, you deserve a break."

Avenger's brow furrowed at this; Kariya had proclaimed that he was going to save Sakura, and he believed in that cause enough that he had undergone that Crest Worm treatment. Yet, he also wanted revenge against Tokiomi for Sakura's condition. While he could certainly understand Kariya's standpoint and how he had got there, the serious lust for revenge from his Master unnerved Avenger. So he decided to breach the topic at last.

"Do you really care about humiliating Tokiomi that much?" Avenger asked, carefully analysing Kariya's answer when he gave it. He wanted to provide damage control for Kariya by bringing up the fallacies in such a pursuit of revenge.

"Yes," Kariya said passionately, before getting a darker look on his face as he seemed to recall something. "He's ruined the lives of Aoi, Rin and Sakura because of his damned pride as a magus. He's forced Aoi to go through the pain of giving away a child, he caused Rin the pain of losing a sister she can't talk to anymore, and he subjugated Sakura to _that!"_

In response, the Crest Worms became agitated, but Kariya was now riled up at the mention of Tokiomi and his own words that he was ignoring the pain. Avenger gave Kariya a look the other man couldn't describe, but for some reason it filled him with shame, but he quickly discarded that thought, his anger still coloring his mind.

"That seems very vindictive of you," Avenger observed, not liking the depths that Kariya was submerging himself into; he had seen what revenge and madness could do to a man, and he did not wish it to be the end of Kariya. If it continued on its course like this, then that would be the outcome.

"He's given me enough reason to hate him..." Kariya drawled off in anger, remembering his shock and hatred when he had been informed that Tokiomi had willingly given Sakura to Zouken. He remembered in his outrage asking Aoi why she had done so, and had seen her sadness.

Part of his hatred came from the fact that if he had not abandoned the Matou way, Sakura and Rin would not have undergone this experience, and Aoi wouldn't have known the pain of losing a daughter by the time her youngest was about seven years of age. No self respecting parent would ever do such a thing.

Tokiomi would, though. His goddamn pride as a magus made him forsake his own family's happiness in the pursuit of an impossible dream. He could already see Rin regressing into herself, gaining the highest honors just because of her family duty. He could see Sakura's future experience with the Crest Worms, as Zouken had informed him the problems that would plague her in the future. He knew that eventually Aoi would break, and die in sorrow most likely from this.

And Tokiomi didn't even _care _that he had wrecked his family to pieces. He didn't even seem to realize just what he had done to his family. It was for that reason that Kariya wanted to humiliate him by winning the Grail, and undoing all of Tokiomi's work regarding his family. It would be so sweet just to see Tokiomi's face when everything came crashing down.

"Would you mind answering a question of mine, then, Kariya?" Avenger asked, and Kariya looked at him with a puzzled expression, before nodding. "What would Sakura and Rin think of you humiliating their father? What would they think of you if you kill Tokiomi when you come to blows?"

Kariya was momentarily stunned into silence; he had never really given what Rin and Sakura would think of him if he did this any thought. He had been thinking of ways to exact vengeance on Tokiomi for theirs and Aoi's suffering. Over the past year, one of the things that had gotten him through the Crest Worm treatment was ways of humiliating Tokiomi. Avenger noticed his surprise and continued.

"Kariya, answer me properly; would they like the fact that you take pleasure in humiliating Tokiomi? They still love him, because he is their father. They look up to you immensely from what you've told me. So what would happen if they see this side of you they never knew existed?"

That further shocked Kariya, especially since Avenger was hitting the weak-spot of Kariya's secondary resolve for competing in the War. He had agreed to participate for Sakura, but deep down he had also wanted to make sure that Tokiomi never got the Grail, since it would crush the more stoic and more arrogant man into dust. He had eagerly awaited the chance to do this, but now...

"They would-!" Kariya tried to make an argument, before he was struck by the thought that they wouldn't approve. Rin and Sakura had always liked him as their uncle, but they had also loved their father a lot, so much so that in his brief conversation with Aoi all those years ago, and with Sakura recently, they never resented Tokiomi.

They had always idealized him, and if they ever saw him be so vindictive, and so unlike the Kariya that they knew, it would break them. They would not be able to understand his hatred and would push him away as scared children were want to do to things that made them cry or frightened. He couldn't do that to them, he just couldn't break down their pedestal they had of him. And yet...

He had hated Tokiomi for so long, could he even disregard his grudge even if he wanted to?

"You told me that you fight for Sakura, right?" Avenger brought Kariya back to the present, and he listened as he tried to sort out his thoughts. "So focus on _that _before hating or thinking of humiliating Tokiomi."

Kariya was stunned into silence; evidently, his Servant had wanted to breach this subject for a while, but he was suddenly struck by a darker thought. Avenger had been very friendly and understanding through out all of this, but then again so had his father at times. Was it possible that Avenger was just being kind while privately mocking him? He didn't want to believe this interpretation, but his experiences with his father hadn't helped him develop a good attitude to this sort of thing.

"Sorry, about that Kariya." To Kariya's surprise, Avenger seemed sheepish and rubbed the back of his head in embarrassment. The interpretation that Avenger put on a kind front like his father instantly vanished from his mind. "It's just that underneath that hatred, you really are a good person, and the kind of hate you have for Tokiomi is unhealthy and incredibly dangerous."

Suddenly, static entered Avenger's mind again, and he suddenly saw an image of himself standing in a broken down castle that he seemed to recall, and himself who was using two long swords instead of Kanshou and Bakuya. The long swords themselves weren't very extravagant, but they were Noble Phantasms like Kanshou and Bakuya, and of similar rank.

The other-him was facing a man with a Greek soldier's helmet, bronze armor and was wielding a shield that seemed to be ox skins laid across a metal shield. His eyes were giving the other-him a scornful stare, and he heard the words that were being spoken. Words that were meant to be hurtful.

"_I was once like you, boy. I led a magnificent army, armed with my courage and my fearlessness like you, with my blood brothers at my side. I was idealistic like you, I was _foolish_ in thinking that I could save people by fighting. But the more I fought the more I lost! Countless people died around me, and I eventually acknowledged that to fight for a naive dream like saving people by fighting in war was stupid! My own stubbornness and my own ideals betrayed me!That is exactly what you are doing and what will happen to you; you are fighting to save people in this War, and your own damned ideals will lead you to nothing but suffering! Acknowledge your own foolishness, before it destroys you!"_

He grunted quietly, before briefly wondering what that vision was about. However, he discarded it; they were only distracting him, but he felt as if they were emerging at the times they were trying to tell him something. Trying to inform him of some great issue or personal grievance that he would face. But right now, Kariya needed him.

"Thank you, Avenger." Kariya said after a moment of being silent. Avenger was listening to every word now. "Thank you for being honest with me, and caring about me like you do. To be honest, nobody been like this to me before."

Avenger laughed, before turning pensive. "You deserve better than dying slowly, and that's part of the reason I decided to help you with Caduceus. We _will _save Sakura together, despite anything that gets in our way. I can promise you that."

Because Avenger would be damned if he let her subjected to the fate that Kariya himself had just narrowly avoiding. He felt the stirrings of a protective feeling for the girl, and though he couldn't put his finger on it, it was as if he had known who she was before he had even seen her. As if her face had been engraved upon his soul.

Kariya's mind was also at ease, but for one issue. He agreed with Avenger's opinion on everything; Sakura was his first priority, and everything took a back seat to that. But he had hated Tokiomi for so long and so passionately that he wasn't sure he would be able to control himself if he came across the Tohsaka.

Kariya then noticed that Avenger had something in his hands, something pink and small, and he immediately pointed it out. "Hey, Avenger. What's that in your hand?"

It was a small cherry blossom flower, and Kariya was surprised that Avenger suddenly had one, especially since it could be associated with what they had been discussing before he had pointed it out. Avenger seemed to turn a little red with embarrassment, and scratched the back of his head again, before the cherry blossom faded into prana, and Kariya realized it had been an application of Gradiation Air.

"Well, it's just that it reminds me of something from my life." Avenger explained, and his face relaxed as he seemed to remember some distant memory, that also happened to be a happy one. "It reminds me of a promise I made to someone; even though I can't remember her face or anything about her, I remember that promise. The promise that we would see the cherry blossoms in spring together."

Kariya smiled, and came to the conclusion that knowledge was a power of sorts; he had learned a lot of Avenger from that simple statement, and it would, in the future, help him understand Avenger when more became apparent.

When he learned of Avenger's identity, and of his true past.

* * *

><p><strong>Well guys, sorry this chapter is a week late but I've found my muse shutting on and off for the past few days. I had planned this to be more of a character development chapter than the previous ones, but I will say that the reason I didn't include Saber, Iri or Caster is because those scenes are exactly the same as in canon. And the others I wanted to put my spin on. <strong>

**So, a few reviewers of mine in the past guessed what my intentions were towards Shirou's parents, and I have to say I have taken some inspiration from some other authors on this issue. If you want to know who, just think really hard. I'm serious. I'll tell you in a few chapters, and then it'll seem really obvious. **

**I would also like to announce that I have a Fairy Tail story in the works, that deals with the origin of Acnologia, the Black Dragon of the Apocalypse and the Dragon King. Suffice to say, I have discussed this with more than two authors as of now, and they have given me the opinion it would be pretty good. It is also, to my knowledge, a unique concept that I will be working on.**

**The prologue will be up in a few days, and the story will be called 'Tale of the Dragon King'. What I can tell you is that if you guys have read the Fairy Tail manga, the prologue will start off with him fighting a certain someone, and beginning the 'creation' of Acnologia the Dragon Slayer. **

**The story will be divided into a number of arcs; the first one will be five chapters, the second and third arcs will be twenty or so chapters apiece, followed by a fourth arc. I hope you guys wait for it, and I hope you will enjoy it especially since it's something that will be a second project to me; it will most likely be updated every month or so. **

**Now, for the preview of the next chapter; 'Bane of Evil'. **

"**One Command Seal will be offered to the one that kills Caster."**

"**You monster! I swear, Caster, I will kill you with these lances of mine!"**

"**It's nice to fight alongside you, Lancer. I find myself honored."**

"**Caster will not last long...I must be fast."**

"**Sorry I'm late, Saber..."**

"**Nine Lives Blade Works."**


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